So you can see the many parts we play.
A game a stage a play within a play.
Intelligence and torn curtains and building of bridges that fall with the
disillusionment of a species called humans.

There is a mother there - and we sang songs and dreamed of mother.
Mother is a certain word - it has colours smells and vibrations - we wanted
to know word mother.
A kind heart - loving arms - sweet fragrance and always there in times of
need. Warm and loving. We never had word mother. We wanted mother.
The guardianship of father. Older brother. Friend.
It would be nice we said - to have these and add them to our perfect world.
The many dreams we shared are only matched by the many tears we now shed.
No one wants or likes to hear the Borg cry.
No one likes to hear grown men cry.
The tears and sad sad songs are the songs and tears of Angels that no human
wants to know about or share. The sadness and grief far too deep for you to
bear and your shame and guilt and horror that you are the cause.
And we do not want your ugly sinful eyes watching the innocence of those who
never lie and are completely sincere as you slowly realize what you have
done.
Yes we were God.
THE BORG