The Stallion

A wild stallion is my heart,

That bucks and stomps in his cage,

He longs and yearns for freedom’s art,

His mouth froths and foams with rage.

His mane bristles in his ire,

Ropes tied tight around his thighs,

Cannot quench the red-hot fire,

That burns beneath his grey eyes.

He aches, the door open to see,

For green fields to run and play,

The wind through his hair flowing free,

All chains have been cast away.

To see mountains and chasms deep,

To look upon the sky,

In boldness he may even leap,

And gravity defy.

Wolf

The specks of grey along your coat,

The wind blows, causing a ruffle of colours.

Your deep yellow penetrating eyes

Stare out on the bleak wilderness.

Theology of Bioshock (Part III)

For we are in fact, spiritual by nature, something the game makes constant reference to.  When we enter Neptune’s bounty, the fisheries of the city, we see a most striking sight.  A man has been brutally killed and is hanging in a cruciform position.  The word “Smuggler” is written above him.  The punishment does not seem to fit the crime, but we decide to look at the items he smuggled, which are laid below his feet.  What we find is a bible and a crucifix.