Imagination

Passed some time, you it decides to visit that city similar to see where the martrico act after changed its people of its son, and for its surprise and disappointment, it finds a population that still lives and if it imagines as that the convict, and for its bigger astonishment, adoring, reverenciando that one that was the instrument of its death: the knife. It has rejoinders for all the cantos: greaters, minors, enormous; in the religious building one in real size also meets, of its son dilacerado for the machete blows, and still with the instrument cravado in its bloody heart; it is bent over ahead of the knife; reverence; it is had as amulet of the cars and necks; it is signal of the justeza of the courts. Why reason you more would cry: for the death of the son, or for the proven inoquidade of its great sacrifice of love for those people? They nothing had understood of the meaning of that act. They needily continue living, they still imagine the convict, they arrepiam before the imagination of the arrival of the hired killer already looser, they do not accept at least to speak that already more they do not need thus to live and that she has a new reality of possible freedom, and still above all they reverenciam blindly a death object, in a meaningless cult, without at least abiding itself by the sacrifice, its author and its meaning. I do not intend to attack this or that one creed, especially the church catholic and those that of it participate, but in reality, all and any person who if says Christian, and that it honest searchs to live this reality in its life, has as obligation to refeltir on the direction of its acts of life and cult.

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