Man identifies with his suffering
and calls loving
the one who confirms it.

Woe to the one who sees the problem
and tears it away.

Whoever carries a solution
beyond understanding
becomes first a stranger, then an enemy.
We turn our backs, we point,
we cast out.

And if the solution is too foreign –
then we crucify.

For the self wants to be saved as it is.
But what helps
is the one the self does not survive.

So we love the one
who rots with us in the cell,
and hate the one
who unlocks the door.

The solution is free.
Surrender.
Die within
and let everything fall.
What opens the door
is not a key –
it is letting go of the one who sits there.

The story gained billions of followers
who read about him every Sunday
without understanding
that the cross is not longer his.

It is their own.

The grave is empty –
because it was always empty.
No one has ever lived there.
It was only the light
that sat in the darkness for a while
and thought it belonged there.