By A Divine Paradox, Wherever There Is

I (god) Will Leave Man To Make The Fateful Guess, Will Leave Him Torn Between The No And Yes, Leave Him Unresting Till He Rests In Me, Drawn Upward By The Choice That Makes Him Free, Leave Him In Tragic Loneliness To Choose, With All In Life To Win Or All To Lose.

By A Divine Paradox, Wherever There Is One Slave There Are Two

To Throw Oneself To The Side Of The Oppressed Is The Only Dignified Thing To Do In Life.

At The Heart Of The Cyclone Tearing The Sky And Flinging The Cloud And The Towers By, Is A Place Of Central Calm: So Here In The Roar Of Mortal Things, I Have A Place Where My Spirit Sings, In The Hollow Of God's Palm.

Choices Are The Hinges Of Destiny.