God Forgive Us

          It is a time of insecurity for the race of man; their villages are being stormed and their people diminishing. They feel as is God is punishing them for their sins. They run about the streets of their meager villages crying, "God forgive us". Every day they chant this and still their numbers are dwindling.
          "Maybe God HAS left us," cries one to a gathering of villagers.
          "We are not longer protected by him," states another to murmurs of agreement.
          A lone figure steps into the interior of the circle, watched by all. He strolls up to the two mean and swiftly slaps both of them.
          "God has not left us! We have left ourselves", stated the man "Where is our sense of pride? this is our land, not theirs. Can we not defend out own country? If I was God at present and I looked down on you from my exalted chamber I assure you I would leave you. We cannot expect him to watch over us when we could protect ourselves. God has not left us! He is up in heaven lamenting at the plaintive race he has created, repeating to himself, "Why do they not fight for themselves? I have given them all they would need.'"
         "We have nothing to fight an army!" cried one of the gathered villagers. Apart from that speech there was no movement. The two men in the center were frozen from the smack they received.
          "Do we not? What do you think we need?"
          "We need an army!"
          "An army? Well, what is this gathering if not that very thing? We have enough men here to engage our enemy," replied the unknown man.
          "We have no training! We are not soldiers!"
          "What makes a soldier a soldier? I tell you now it is not training that we need here," the stranger replied. "What we need is a little sense of ourselves. Courage and determination is all that is required of us. Do you not even have those? If you do not stand, what good will come of it? We will only fight another day or be slaughtered in our beds!"
          "We will run then! Run far into the mountains where they will not follow!"
          "I hope that I have heard you wrong, my friend." the stranger yelled. "You would leave your city to them? If this is so then I call you a coward! You are all cowardly! You cannot even summon the strength to defend you home? You are truly weak, weak and helpless!"
          "Cowards? We are no cowards!" cried a villager.
          "No? Then why do you run and hide like a scolded dog? Aye, my friend, you are cowardly. If this is what man has become then I am ashamed to call myself one. You disgust me!"
          "I don't see you rendering you services!" was a shout from the now closing crowd.
          What do you think I am doing here if not offering my services? You are more than cowardly you are foolish! One man cannot protect this city if the rest of its inhabitants are cowardly dogs!"
          "You have insulted us too many times friend," one of the original speakers sad.
         "I have spoken nothing but the truth! You are nothing more than cowards! I, at this moment, almost wish that our enemies would sweep over the walls and rid this world of your cowardly ideals! You horrible COWA..." No words followed. Instead he was pursued by a flood of red, his last sentence cut short with a swipe of silver.
         A patriot died that day and the entire village followed him. It is said that every villager that perished in the onslaught, in their last breath said,” God forgive us."