Faith and Vision

The visionless underdog whimpered lightly under the covers. Whining out of fragmented visions of the past juxtaposed with blinding images from the future. A man without a vision, what good is he in this world of now? A weight to the earth. Theoretically, all of us have remained, and will probably remain as weights to the earth, unless some bright spark finds out a way to recycle human mass into energy. Keep whimpering, cur. Keep wishing that either science or providence will deliver you from your misery. You have no faith in either.