I ~ The Vestige of the Fade

I awake to the echo of clockwork. After rubbing my eyes I look around. Above me hangs a giant clock. It floats in a place where nothing else other than darkness exists. The time reaches midnight.

The darkness splits in half with light. White light like a spear pierces through this lonely chamber. I step toward the divide. An infant’s cry, a solemn gasp, and the ticking of a clock sound as I approach.

“Child, you have returned. The place you are is the first and last place your existence came to be. From the heights of freedom to the depths of sorrow you fell. Here, you can forget for you’ve become faded.” echoes an omnidirectional and gentle voice.

Cracks of light spread until everything clears up. I fall to my knees and gasp at the sight. Charred ground that black vines grow from goes from horizon to horizon. A mob of people with a dark gray eyes walks around aimlessly. I feel a coldness in their gaze.

One woman grabs my arm. Despair, loneliness, and captivity surge from her weak touch. I pull away suddenly. The mob turns toward me. My mind screams to run but, my body freezes in fear. Stupidly I think about the state of the human condition as they overpower me and tear at my flesh with overgrown nails.

“Damaged. . .” I spit out that single word with a little blood, “Anger and hate vents from broken and lost hearts. Are you looking for a new beginning? I know I am.”

They mindlessly attack me. I feel myself sinking beneath the tide of their bodies. All the emotions gnaw at my heels to keep me stuck here. I cry and scream for help while knowing it’s just in vain. Eventually my body grows numb to the pain.

I dig my nails into the charred ground and pull myself through the mob. My arms collapse from exhaustion. The shadows of their tangled bodies swallow me up whole. I try to remember better times before now because I can no longer feel anything. One memory finds its way among these dark times.

A day where my heart aches but my eyes could no longer cry. My best friend, another kid apprentice in a small town known for its superb smiths, argues with military officers about prices. They call him a greedy kid but they are wrong. He works hard trying to get medicine for kids in an orphanage.

He looks at the villagers who turn away from him. And I, his friend, walk away to work on my craft. After a few hours I run to his family home knocking on the door. No one answers. I decide to sit on their stairs until they return. Before I notice the suns begins setting bringing with itself a cold April shower. Cold and shivering I wait.

I open the door around midnight. He sits there on his knees in a pool of tears. The candles cast a shadow over him but I reach out to touch his shoulder. My thoughts race and no words come out. He pushes me away.

“Where did you go! They, no. . .no one believed me. Those kids are dying! And the military offers nothing while expecting cheaper prices for their duty. They called me a petty thief. No one spoke of my innocence as they called me guilty. Look at what silence does!” he raises bandaged hands missing a few fingers.

“I’m sorry but what could us kids change? They could’ve killed you.” I speak without hesitation and bite my tongue after.

“Get out.” he pushes me back.

That day’s mistake still eats away at my conscience. Thoughts like what-ifs gnash and tear. A wound forms from looking back while knowing I can never change the past. It keeps me awake at night. And my senses return with the old heartache.

“I fucked up back then. I know that. Yet from failure I still dare wish to succeed.” I shout with my whole heart.

“To feel pain is the cost to feel anything at all but don’t become obsessed with it. Learn to grow with every step. And with any luck this darkness, a horde of tainted hearts, will never be. Cure the blight.” everything blurs out of focus.

Shards of a Fallen Paradise

Ever wonder about the nature

Of ethics? Changing with a feature

Called society and without departure.

Well, a isle in an ocean made of memories

Dared to see a new dawn of all the reveries

From which life gains purpose for stories.

 

A Dionysian Kingdom chasing freedom and highs.

At first the denizens talked, expressed, and loved

Without barriers but, jealousy and greed seeped in.

It does everywhere. We often fail to see this truth.

 

Bliss. Do we hide from the obscene or face it headlong?

Truthfully, I hope you never see all these haunting horrors

And can be free from these curses. To know human errors

Is to know your own / Maybe the pain makes us strong.

Among the Sun and the Shade: Intro

They say disregard those that are weird and to accept those that are different. When their charade is exposed the journey begins. We’re sailing into a jungle where a bright Sun burns anyone outside. Most will steer away from this land of tribulation and seek refuge in the shade, but I can’t anymore. The Sun burns away the veil. . .

 

VON (Hope)

“Vigilantes? We’re much worse. Just a demon
Clawing at the world’s innards. We’re anarchy.”
“That’s a band of thieves. Circulate the ill blood,
Feed your greed, toss out scraps from where you stood.”
“To survive takes will, to thrive takes a salary.
We’re all meat but some can become sovereign.”

The day comes when we reflect back. Did we do right?
Far after the fight, way beyond sight; a waning light.

There are possibilities, some harder to envision
Than the rest, that everyone can reach. Few race
Through life but a faster way often ends sooner.
I climb above the streets by wet, cold, slick bricks.

Rain drips from my saturated strands of hair,
Musty air fills my chest, I exhale my breath.
Others carry on through each drop. To stare
At their beautiful bittersweet world, Macbeth.

 

To Be True to Yourself

Everyone wants a place to belong
And a chance at happiness. Imagine,
What will people do without either?
They wage physical and psychological war.

I cross through the sea of their rage
In an exodus from their golden age.
Oh is my heart right? I keep breathing,
It’s all I can do. Yeah, no escaping.

The fact is I’d fight for the right
Of that opinion you hold so tight.
We have to stand up and fight.

Our enemies use our own morals against us.
To divide us. Why do we hate what makes us us?
See there’s a point where others manipulate us
For their own benefit. They don’t care about us.

Try to remember:
We have both a heart and a mind, to love and to understand.
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Echoing voices pass by, yet it’s silent.

Fear keeping them from communicating
As exhaust fumes polluting the air between.
A perpetuating system like the withering
Of a flower. The masses are gathering.
Words lost in all the frequencies unseen.
Does anyone see bleeding hearts desiccating?

Yeah, I’m listening and seeing the truth.
My hands sift through their tears like sand
And I fall to a humbler state.

“Why? Why do we all turn
On others when life gets tough?
They need some love when it’s rough.
Can we change? Or do we burn?”

I’m unready for that cremation.
The sand cannot just be ashes
Of dreams and lives now lost.

Nothing is wrong about dreaming, living, being you;
It isn’t right to dramatize struggles when others bleed.
We have to be better. I’ll be there and I’ll offer my hand
When someone hurts because life can be so cruel.

Utopia? No. — Change.

The serene nature by which the night air accustoms itself to my lungs. Could it be any more calming? A cycle of gravity’s depression upon the cavity of space this solar system inhabits creates a series of events cultivating in this single, unique moment. But my mind spoils this moment with thoughts of others who never appreciate the larger scheme at play. I shiver beneath the pale moon wishing I could breathe new life into those hollow men.
Have they lost their way? Honestly, it’s not my place to weigh hearts against a feather. I simply want to show everyone the beautiful yet complex universe we live in. Bettering the human race doesn’t need to equate to better wages, better living conditions, or any better version of a material object. We need a reawakening of the heart, the thing that makes us human. And that is what I write for instead of chasing success. I’m mortal and I won’t waste my time on building a figurative castle because all of this is made of sand. . .it’s meant to be swept away.
Although everything is temporary, we can all take something from what we’ve made. What matters though? Seeing that things won’t last shows brevity that can shatter any world view and make light out of life’s many quarrels. If we task ourselves with the continuation of life and understanding we can create an even better future than money can create. I can see a more unified humanity, less tragedies, and a greater appreciation of life.
Why aim for such a goal? It seems natural to me for one to care for others and express concerns about the toxicity within their hearts. I wouldn’t say that this desire is foolishly idealistic nor that it is arrogantly realistic. The pragmatic truth says we can do much better due to probability but forcing change only creates further problems so we should teach each other. We can be better and better others through brevity, appreciation, and relaxation.

Understand how finite everything is, appreciate what is and let it be, and allow distance between the truth and feelings.

heart-on-fire
We can make a better humanity if we only try.

Hello or Goodbye? ~ I Never Know

A dagger thrust between your chest
And mine. See the light of dawn
On this horizon where dreams rest
In their forlorn cradle and coffin.

“Oh please just take away the pain, a stain of a life
Only washed away by our blood with this one knife.”

Eternity will call as we fall to our knees
One by one in procession. We’re falling
Through the skyline and I’m unafraid
Of what comes next. Hello or goodbye?
This is an evolution-revolution-devolution
To see myself fall from materialistic highs.

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To find a way between light and darkness. . .

 

 

Protocol13: To Save the Endarkened

A time existed where mankind found itself owing a debt to its own hubris. The cities once full of jubilant laughter fell into silence as if they all were in mourning. One man died but his death wouldn’t grant amnesty to those responsible.

Him and a friend saved everything that was, is, and will be. He wasn’t great, humble, nice, or anything. . .definitely no messiah. But he didn’t have to be. A choice came to him; will you run away from consequences or will you face them even if they’re not your own?

The universe began dying after selfishness infected it with a blight. Thirteen heavenly gates manifested into existence. Each gate hosted a trial that could revitalize the universe. These two men faced trial after trial in a desperate attempt not to let everything fade away.

Desnei and Saker, the names of the two, only achieved victory at the last gate. Human rulers didn’t hesitate to martyrize them for their bravery. Two new species created by humanity stomached the brutality.

The Larthans met with the Veryn’Kah (Black Demons) months later. One of the Veryn’Kah remarked about the fact that humanity will recreate the blight. He pushed for extermination. Larthans offered reeducation as a rebuttal because of the human adage “two wrongs don’t make a right”. After weeks of intense debate both parties reached a compromise.

Three Larthans halted action from every human military while the others herded humanity into secure, self-sustaining cities. During humanity’s incarceration the Larthans and the Veryn’Kah fought off residual effects from the blight. The Endarkened.

Sadly thirty centuries wasn’t enough time. The universe decided humanity has to be the ones to save themselves. Us in the Royal Protectorate understand fully what it means to bear the sins of others. I once hated this organization with a passion but now I know the truth. We have a lot to clean up after. This isn’t a god’s mess. . .this is ours and we don’t need a miracle or a holy debt to fix it.

“We protect the innocent; we save the lost and forgive them of their transgressions; we fight darkness to see the dawn; we are the Royal Protectorate.”

sa;bdry

Live; Don’t Run Away

Traversing pass thousands of stars.
The river erases everything even scars.

Greedily holding onto this one, lonely sunset
We burn our hands. The way barred by a lack
Of dreams and a melancholy sickness. Hack
And cough up the ilk we take as our regiment.

Who knows what’s right any longer?
A masquerade that never ends despite
All of the tears behind carbon masks.
We see the headlines reading our wounds,
Self-inflicted and left to go septic.
Run in circles and scream for change
From ourselves; it’s only our fault.

When we take off the masks we’re fearful
Of everyone else. The monsters in our heads
Were born when we fell so low to the floor.

Between the burn and the fall gain humility.
Entertain the idea that we all might be wrong
In this expansive universe. Dreams so strong
They can shatter through our false reality.

If we keep heading in the same direction we will reach where we’re headed. We can hope for a miracle or forget the bad but that ain’t an answer. Face the darkest and brightest day with the same desire to see tomorrow. ~ Don’t follow those that can’t discern their heart from a crowd. Because the worst thing we can become is numb and dismissive.

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