“A wind blows cross paths
Too certain of its way.
And tho the breeze enlightens me
I feel darker than midnight day.
This dark doth entice my lips.
And kisses me full of cold.
And I will upon myself a dank
That wouldst make a babe grow old.
Wherefore this wind hath come this eve,
That this wind cometh here to beckon me, 
Beckon me to die.
                 -And I consent.”    
 
                 -Gervasio (Marranos y Madelina)

The only people allowed to play God are playwrights...

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