IT: In Praise of Sinners

They say that IT brings us together.
It's like the beacon of light that shines on our ways,
Or the pair of eyes that allows us to see what's inside,
The guardian of sanity for those who seek answers,
The truth that holds us upright and true,
The defender of the oppressed and fortress of the weak,
The salvation that gives assurance on the afterlife,
The oracle of the days to come and the days gone by,
The fountain of forgiveness that heals us from our wrongdoings,
The heaven of divine presence that drives the demons away,
The reminder that goodness exists,
And the two-sided solid core of who we are.

And so, to some, saints are cherised and respected.
They show us virtue, faithfulness, devotion, and godliness - entities having been in eternity perfected.
To some, they are the living embodiment of every ideal.
And even if God is revealed to be no more than a three-letter word, these men are enough to be their idols.

And in reverse, sinners are condemned and rebuked.
They show us vileness, faithlessness, degradation, and ungodliness - entities created to be condemned.
To most, these are the decaying manifesto of all things temporal.
And if God's existence transcends a three-letter word, these ferals will be thrown into the great fiery hall.

But as much as we need the saints, we owe our beings to the sinners.
And probably sinners cannot be born from IT.
For they understand things that IT won't.
And they see the dark that dwells within IT.

They know how IT tears nations, friends, and families apart,
Or how IT blinds us from other people's ways,
And IT is rarely a good telescope that allows us to see what's on the other side,
It can be the anchoring insanity for those who are easily satisfied,
The narrow truth that justifies hypocrisy,
The defender of opressors and palaces of the strong,
The comfort that covers our unpreparedness for afterlife,
The see-it-all which sees nothing about the present,
The fountain of forgiveness that gives us more reasons to do more wrongdoings,
The hell of feather-winged demons that demonizes angels far away,
The ignorance for evils around the world,
And the grounding shackles that restrain us from what we could be.

But somehow,
Sinners' gifts transcend the saints' vision
Saints look, and sinners see.
But sinners do while the saints sleep in their gaze.

Even without IT,
They heal souls IT ostracized,
They let other ways illuminate them,
They give another view to what's inside,
They withstand insanity and strengthen those on the verge,
They walk on both their feet,
They defend the oppressed and the weak,
They know how to live for today,
They master the meaning of vanity,
And embrace that no deed can ever right a wrong,
And learn how to confront their demons,
By seeing that, within them, some sorts of goodness exist,
And, as the colorful beings that they are, march on to what they could try and become.

March 1, 2018.
Midnight.
Inspired by her thesis.