There once was a child born, of two parents whose
heritages were greatly different. The friends of each
of the two parents held extremely different views of
the child's nature, provenance, and custody. When it was
left to the to decide, by parents who were ignoring the
child, who would watch over it, the friends of the father
jumped in and secured custody, intent on raising the child
as they wanted.
The friends of the mother kept a close eye
on the child. Many of them ached to help it, especially
when they saw it abused deliberately by certain friends
of the father. They bided their time however, hoping
that those raising the child would truly come to love
it and its dual nature.
Then one day, the child was stricken with an incurable
malady, the dread disease leprosy. Each year, as the child
grew taller, yet more disfigured, the friends of the
father insisted it was healthy. "Just look at it walk",
"See the way it smiles", "It grows so tall".
When the friends of the mother showed concern, they were
told they did not have an open mind to appreciate the
natural beauty there. Their aesthetic sense did not
accept the unhealth, and was therefor somehow imputed to be wrong.

When will you open your eyes? When will you stop spouting
lip-service of protectorship and care? Will you wait until
there is nothing left to save, then blame it on others for
not stopping you earlier?


Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Daedalan, in the year 310 AF.