Philosophy, and her Daughters the Sciences, are a way to put ourselves to words,
they are a means of storage, transfer, and communication.
Philosophy is a thin outer layer of the Human Mind,
of the Human Condition, of the Raw, Unleashed, Human Consciousness.
Within, Rises The Human,
The Source of Raw.
The only flaw,
is us becoming convinced we are small.
That's why we have each other,
I remind you, you remind your granddaughter, she reminds those in need.
And the Triumph continues,
The Triumph, is an unbroken line through the past.
Like an eraser it runs over nations that take freedom,
wiping out corrupt politicians for the specks of dust they are.
It a bone shaking scream it runs through the blind judge,
it strikes nightmares in those who treat men as animal.
It pierces the hearts of animals that recruit unprepared kids to teach them how to become "men" in war,
it carves, the predatory weapon manufactures that turned air to acid for a profit.
It strikes right through the slavers burning them to dust,
the lawless beg in their last moments as the village heroes rise.
And the wolves run and hide under our very own blankets,
made of the snarling bear skins from last week.
History of the Human Kind,
will always be writ and washed by prevalent powers.
But that will always be a surface story,
because in the face of the future the truth is always revealed.
You are easily capable of becoming countless times more,
than the heroes described in the books.
By subtle analogy to whatever our triumphs are,
we can see all the other triumphs for what they really were.
By the very power that expands our wisdom,
we grow to no end.