If you refuse to acknowledge me as a witness and evade the Judge, your brother's blood stands as testimony against you, crying out for justice. It condemns you even more than if your brother were still living. You were alone; who else could have committed the crime? To blame your parents is to absolve the murderer. One who lacks compassion for their own parents is capable of killing a brother; they can admit they descended from a line of murderers. The saying holds true: the voice of the blood cries out. It is not the brother who accuses but the very act of shedding blood that does. Even in death, the bond of fraternal love remains untainted. The blood you have spilled is what testifies against you. The opportunity to defend oneself slips away from the guilty, and one who reveals their crime through actions cannot seek the testimony of another. Deeds carry more weight than words. Furthermore, the ground that absorbed the blood bears witness. It is rightly said, "The voice of your brother's blood cries out from the earth" (Gen. 4:10)—not from the brother's body, but from the very soil. Although the brother may withhold judgment, the earth will not; if the brother remains silent, the earth will condemn him. The earth itself stands as both witness and judge, still stained with the blood from your crime, a harsh witness and a stern judge. The earth, tainted by such a vile act, opened its mouth to receive your brother's blood at your hand, expecting to welcome words of love from its kin. Yet, upon witnessing this horrific deed, it had no reason to anticipate violence, having never beheld human murder before. You have spilled blood, and now the earth, burdened by this defilement, will no longer grant you its strength (Genesis 4:12). How just is vengeance! Wounded deeply, it chooses to withhold assistance instead of inflicting harm. God's words, "The voice of your brother's blood cries out to Me" (Genesis 4:10), carry significant weight, for God hears His righteous even after death; they live on in Him. It is no coincidence that they are deemed alive: having experienced physical death, they now possess life beyond the flesh, illuminated by the glory of their righteousness, and enjoying eternal light. God hears even the blood of the righteous while rejecting the pleas of the wicked. Though these individuals may seem alive, they are indeed more wretched than those who have passed away, dragging their flesh like a tomb that entombs their suffering souls. Only the dead remain confined to the earth, where earthly desires, passions, and vices reside, preventing the soul from catching even a hint of divine grace. Such a sinner is cursed by the earth, the lowest part of creation. Above lies heaven, filled with the sun, moon, stars, thrones, dominions, powers, authorities, cherubim, and seraphim. It is certain that what exists above will curse what is already condemned below. Can heavenly judgment exonerate one whom the earth has already condemned? Consequently, he is doomed to wander the earth, groaning and trembling.