What are we, if not just flesh and blood?

What makes up the man that breatheth 

And walk? Leaving imprints in mud;

Scars on land that leave our best with behest,

Or the ones who honor the unhonorable duds.

What are we? Children from Pandora's Box.

That thrive on all that is most lifeless;

Where material holds praise and money talks

And all that is righteous...becomes forgotten.

What are we, if not of the most holy?

Is there no relation to the mirically misbegotten?

Let it not be so, let it be untrue, let us start anew;

Repent and forgive all that has been so rotten.

What are we? People with a worlds view.