They think no one sees them. But I've lived for two thousand years, and I've seen it all. I was young when the blood stained my altar emerald, and I've seen passion run as deep as the sands of home.
I watched as those who made me forsook the warrior path, and walked for peace, and I've held my council as their sons and daughters knelt before me in meditative silence.
But even the fires that burn inside me now do not warm me as does the fire of their passion—the joy in their faces as they join. And no incense could smell as sweet as their love.
Silent, I am content.