Just Coz

(A man takes a walk down a dark, windy street. It is the middle of day. The sun is gone, has been for nearly 2 days now. There is no hope, no panic, no masses, only resignation, for there will be no light the next, or the next, or the next morning. And this breeze cherishes the last man, the last walk that can enjoy true darkness. The last walk on earth.)
James: Yes, that is my name.
(The man has a nice, leather boot on one foot, and a flat topped tennis shoe on the other. He stands on one foot as he speaks.
James 2: Farthest of my own conscience, why not, why not, why not introduce the last soul, the last face of the darkened death, which was once the lighten life of all existence. I am James, yes, why not, yes. (Jumps, changing feet).
James: Just Coz . (Jumps, changing feet).
James 2: Yes, a just cause, a just cause to be made famous, fame to the grinds of dust and where even the maggots of our existence are blown off my light, my life, our time. To be the last to utter a word under this, the soul’s sound. (Jumps, changing feet).
James: No, just coz. (Jumps, changing feet).
James 2: And why are we the ones. Why are we the ones who see an opportunity to ravel our own existence, to expulse our own life? God asked from no man to supply his own demise, he gave us this, and yet here we are. (Jumps, changing feet).
James: God? (Jumps, changing feet).
James 2: OR, were we that detestable, were we that disappointing? To let the thriving brine of any man to lay waste. Was it not enough that we were all under the impression... the impression, that we were not the same. That our Lord, master of masters, king of kings, is just the same. (Jumps, changing feet).
James: The king of kings? (Jumps, changing feet).
James 2: Over the vastness of time, beyond eternity, I condemn the God who condemns himself. For there is no god without worship, and no worship without fear, and no fear without mankind, and no mankind without our God. (Jumps, changing feet).
James: Our God? (Jumps, changing feet).
James 2: I am secular to believe that the same God who has indebted us to knowledge of fate, without the sense of time that we needed to know him would assuredly grant us the soul we need. (Jumps, changing feet).
James: Soul? (Jumps, changing feet).
James 2: (Mocking) Ah, yes, could you bless me this evening? O, can I be wise to complete this or that? O my, Bless this disease, you bless my cousin with, but could you grant me a boon to escape its shadow hands. (Jumps, changing feet).
James: Shadow hands? (Jumps, changing feet).
(The streets lights are still on, but grow dimmer and dimmer)
James 2: This is the monologue of the diseased, the final chapter, and the speech of our own existence. For the end comes with the shuffle of the brave and a whimper from the corny. (Jumps, changing feet).
James: Speech? (Jumps, changing feet).
James 2: This grain of sand, this abomination that bled out the only creature that thought itself not a creature, the final taste, the final whisper of the soul sound, lost in the bowls of all the foam of mathematics and time that surround us. It won’t miss it, it will just remember the days where it felt awfully sick, and the nights it felt awfully lazy. (Pointing to the ground, Jumps, changing feet).
James: (Chanting) Speech! Speech! (Jumps, changing feet).
James: I’m afraid this is the end of days. The days which where least of what I consider a day, and last of the hours that all of existence considered time. It is just now, just now, just now, not a shadow, not a face, to age or to fade, to pass or to grow. There is no time for nothing. Just watch as the movement of the last soul sound vibrates past your ears, and there will be nothing, neither screams, nor gnashing of teeth. (Jumps, changing feet).
(The Lights fade out to bitter and utter darkness, there is not a light to be seen, it interrupts the last, sentence. James is left in the dark, as the last light on earth fades out.)
James: (It is obscured as to which foot he stands on) ... of teeth… and this breeze, will forever forget its name.
James: Out of the first whispers
Since the beginnings of time
That time, which is all farness, is our time

Yes, out of the first second we recognize, like no other
The birth of the soul, the grand soul

It is neither consequent
Not conscious
Not hopeful
Nor fearful

Just Coz
Just Coz
Just Coz

And we are the waiting
We are the free
Free, for all we see
Is named after me

Yes, me
Me, the carpenter
Me, the king, me the lonely
Me the, farmer, me the fisherman
Me the priest, me the demon, me the prophet

They say
God was there
And the devils curly shadow hands gripped
And straddled the earth’s very revelation
And the lord our God
Allowed the man of this time, devastation

They say
He will start over,
And breathe into dirt again

But they will never be human
They will never have a soul

For the should, and soul is held in the palm of time
The palm of existence, and this very last breeze.

The soul sound is here,
In the palm of my hand

The universe of dust, in the palm of my hand.
Just coz
Just coz

Just coz.