O mother, why do I carry on so? Work in the fields without any fruit to bear?

"My son, you must rake as much rye as you can!"

Rye raking makes Rheiken rake rye with righteous righteousness

Raking Rheiken's rye wries from Rheiken's writhing rye-picking hands

Rise, Rheiken, rake rye with right rhythm

O how the jester jests me

The taunter taunts me

The peer pees on me

And the lovers hate me

Your love is one that is

Like boobs without nipples

Full, but without a point to it

I sometimes dream of a world in which no technology exists. Grass plains are all the eyes can see, and that's all that is known. Bugs don't bite, and weeds don't snare our feet. We absorb the sun, awaiting the next chapters of our lives.

A few years later, we learn to build cities. These cities are filled with lights and urban beauty. The wars ensue, and the world breaks. We float in twilight, laying against brick walls talking to each other, wondering why the sun has flown so far from us. The night sky, filled with the dark, luminous colors of stars, gives us hope for a new world.

As we migrate to new places, we hope that we may find a dark hovel to sleep. Made of stone, the tower that seemed to be twelve stories was only one small room. The whole population shared the room. We did not speak to one another.

Soon, we became more comfortable with each other in the dark hovel. We did not talk, but we were all knew each other. We knew everyone in the remnants of the world. The dark room was a womb for us; a womb that would soon give birth to our new life of dark tranquility. We slept for several millenia.

When we awoke, we were not in the tower anymore. We were in a dark cave. The cave was shiney. The wet rocks felt as if it was the placenta of a new population. But I was alone.

The blue light that bled through the cracks of the cave blinded me. I needed to search for the rest of the world; however, I needed to sleep. I slept for many days -- or was it years? --- or was it hours? I was scared to go out into the world, even though I was the only living thing.

The green plains grew into a forest, our urban landscape was transformed into nothing but dust.

The trees did not allow light.

I've gained courage. I've grown more in courage than I have of the body in the past few days.

My last shred of hope lied in the others.

Finally, the trees gave way to the sun. Below a cliff I saw the land filled with sand and dried venom of scorpians and snakes. A large city was a jewel upon the yellow depths of solid fire. I felt pain on my feet, but I drudged on.

Outside the gates to a large throne worked many slaves. The slaves knew of the unquestionable might of their god, so they worked diligently. With no intereference, I walked up to the prophet-king at the top of the staircase that ascended to the skies.

"Who are you who stands before me? A small man?"

"Nay, I am not a man...

Merely a weak dog.

With buttcheeks."