The Righteous are Born from Broken Glass

Choose life.
Well what is life?
Where does it begin in the mind
where imagination will escape from reality
or reality will instead become its son.

What of our white picket kingdoms
our beautiful depravities.
If we are dead in our beliefs
we are dead in our days.
And in our innermost chamber
the starving dogs we find there.

Yet these things must be.
All things lead back to him.
The righteous are born from broken glass
and in such pieces even the blind can see themselves clearly.