Don't expect from me sweet words... And he said to me, in the darkness of my ears: "What do you complain of, if, in your life, you have accomplished more than most mortals?" And he insists, emphatically: "What do you expect from me, if, convinced, you denied me during your short days on this Earth, useless space, whom you love more intensely than the one who created and conceived you?" But I, in the darkest silence of my soul's hidden hiding places, dare to answer: "I never complain, because I know that, from my ephemeral existence, I take nothing, nor do I leave anything behind; I wouldn't even be able to say where souls are destined, if they exist, when life leaves them behind..." And, excited by the rhetoric of my unprecedented statement, I go on, irreverent: "If you exist only in the imagination of men, showing each one the other cheek - not yours - why do you so deceive humanity, believing in rewards that not even the silence of the eternal abodes will reveal, although many claim to have them? seen, dimly, in the near-death twilight of the infinite morning rebirth, reverberating in your own mental constructions?" I continue, still, insistently, in my useless confabulations: "Where are those who gave their lives to iniquitous causes, if Your Universal Wisdom affirms the ephemerality of everything that exists, has existed or will one day be, in this transitory world of men?
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