In the deepest throes of the Dark Ages, hope was a dream unseen. We sat around the campfire in forced dependency to simply survive.
The killing of Jesus plunged the world into mourning and drowning with guilt. Yet, we still felt there had to be more to life than what we were living.
The consciousness of Jesus' love indelibly remained. In matters of love, we're each on our own, no one can do it for us, and this is ruthlessly enforced.
Same as man-made rules for money.
We've not overcome yet.
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