A Note From The Martyr

Crawling through the vast realms of a sun-bleached algorithm. Simple theories of negative energy enveloping chaos. Echoes past down from generation to generation emitting a faint familiar pulse. The breath from the Earth slows to a stop whilst we continue without guilt. Mechanisms creating other mechanisms to monotomously do our work. Life is now becoming less lived as we march willingly into naivety. Cowards conform to their leaders. Nobility is a distant memory. Heritage is lost. Morals are forgotten. Eating polished stones from the hands of a Tarnished Society. Picking up the scraps from the Political Table. Shouting heresy from the ramparts. Total neglect is the overall feeling this evening. Annihilation of everything we held dear. Courtesy of our shareholders. Flooded streets and burning walls. Perhaps that will make a lasting dent. Unity is not above us, just temporarily out of reach. Blind to our own blasphemies. Sins of humanity dripping with deception. Use your hearts not your minds. Language is lost among the vocal ambiance. Fear swiftly resonates through the crowds. Bodies move to their centre of gravity. Chakras scramble to understand. Loops of dysfunctional apathy. Blood... thick as oil would be a decent proposition comparatively. Rustic, stained and over-cooked. Marble floors used to have a more brilliant shine. Even the Sun and Moon sleep constantly. The sky will weep infinitely. Boardwalks will be empty. Civilizations will be crumbled to a unrecognizable state. The Earth has grown cold. She too is tired. Light is no more. One would hope that with every death comes a life. But this time I told on you. She told me that you would betray her. Perhaps now you will understand. We only get one chance. Perhaps now you will listen. With all sincerity possible... The Martyr

Amastacia Amastacia
26-30, F
Feb 13, 2010