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The Greater Life

Melancholic thoughts of an age long past, a world non-existent and a time eternally lost. A history few understand and even fewer respect. The thoughts of the peoples long passed unimportant and insignificant. Learn not from their luxuries learn instead from their foolhardiness. Pray to your Zeus, your Jupiter, your Odin and your Brahma for they fall on deaf ears. The gods no longer inhabit these lands. They have fled to their Elysium, their paradise away from the constant pleading and complaints of a land infested with filth and corruption spewing vile tar from their mouths that spread and clings to everything they lay their hands upon. What is this lie we live each day, fooling ourselves into thinking what we own is the design of our lives. A reality no more real than the food we consume. The oath to buy and the promise of some form of sexual satisfaction is forced down our throats. Higher and higher our needs soar and ever higher they will till we want the world and one-man stands up and says NO! and we will not listen and strike him down until out demise is by our own hand. And evermore that man will be allocated the status of martyr and the keepers of time will emblazon his name in gold in the great scrolls of history. Understand not what I speak as words but as meaning. In the depths of all men this martyr lives and bides his time. But the foulness of mankind has him shackled, chained and left to wither away while onlookers watch with regret but do nothing. Man by default is a foul beast filled with pedophilic lusts, pedantic thoughts and prostate exams. A man-god emerged from the red of the sickle and hammer and spoke full truths and shattered the reality of man’s domestic blissful existence- Death solves all problems, no man no problems.

Echoes of Time

Melancholic thoughts of an age long past, a world non-existent and a time eternally lost. A history few understand and even fewer respect. The thoughts of the peoples long passed unimportant and insignificant. Learn not from their luxuries learn instead from their foolhardiness. Pray to your Zeus, your Jupiter, your Odin and your Brahma for they fall on deaf ears. The gods no longer inhabit these lands. They have fled to their Elysium, their paradise away from the constant pleading and complaints of a land infested with filth and corruption spewing vile tar from their mouths that spread and clings to everything they lay their hands upon. What is this lie we live each day, fooling ourselves into thinking what we own is the design of our lives. A reality no more real than the food we consume. The oath to buy and the promise of some form of sexual satisfaction is forced down our throats. Higher and higher our needs soar and ever higher they will till we want the world and one-man stands up and says NO! and we will not listen and strike his down until out demise is by our own hand. And evermore that man will be allocated the status of martyr and the keepers of time will emblazon his name in gold in the great scrolls of history. Understand not what I speak as words but as a meaning. In the depths of all men this martyr lives and bides his time. But the foulness of mankind has him shackled, chained and left to wither away while onlookers watch with regret but do nothing. Man by default is a foul beast filled with pedophilic lusts, pedantic thoughts and prostate exams. A man-god emerged from the red of the sickle and hammer and spoke full truths and shattered the reality of man’s domestic blissful existence- Death solves all problems, no man no problems.

Ebony Black and Ivory White: The Trial of the Knights

A beast trudges down a passage, judging eyes, always watching, Thrust into an enclosure no bigger than the cage that held Icarus, Spewing foul acid from its mouth, the odor killing all in its vicinity, Following in its wake a guardian, sturdier than any Corinthian ever was, The weight of the beast supported by its companion, Startled by a fiend the two flee, back through the tunnel of judgmental eyes, As if passing through the nine circles, all with judging eyes, A path that seemed to follow that of Rome’s greatest poets and his follower, Into the glory of Lord Helios the two figures emerge, Stumbling they begin the arduous journey in the vain hopes of finding rest, A sight in the distance, however faint, provides hope to the pair, A path across desolate gray earth, dead………………., Land devoid of any vegetation, ghouls and undead swarm around the valiant knights, Their path a trial from above, one to rival even those of Herakles’, Time flows into one, their journeys end beyond Man’s comprehension, The land spins, swirls, moulds itself into gray, speckled by the red eyes of the undead, An end, for the weary, over yonder is paradise, salvation, land of the gods, Rest for the two, a …….., an attempt to find shelter a success, the glory of Helios now a curse, Doubled over, the hellish figure clothed in black, only the hint of white upon its breast, Beside it the angel in white, hands formed after the image of Gabriel himself, Foul maroon liquid flows freely from the ebony wraiths lips, His bent over form taking on the shape of some vile Empusa, dung and bronze his limbs, His moans echo around the path of all those that pass by, A goddess in human skin, a compassionate look upon her face, From her an offering to the gallant heroes, the brew sweet and fresh, The bent over figure shows little gratitude, the illness of fermented grapes too strong, Strengthened by the goddesses own concoction the two figures stumble towards redemption, The moans of the stricken figure echoes as they disappear towards hope, This, the tale of the shadow and the light. FIN
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