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December 01, 2005
Dynasty of men
These are quiet days, I will not repent, no, I will not, I was awake, and I heard the sky, as the rain fell and the crow hid behind the clouds. I was here, and that's my pain, my sin, my predicament. The sky open and the rain came, the thunder, the lightning, the air turned gray, darker than ever, and I witnessed how the colossal sense of life constricted within itself, and shattered, in once telling moment, as we reached the end.
I have the words inside my head, I have the images but I can not say. for if I do I have betrayed my destiny. You will wake up tomorrow and the paper will tell you how you lived, and how you reached the height of your indifferences. you will kiss your wife, and say good morning to your children and it all seems so causally normal. You will not see the tear at the end of the horizon, you will not know. The horsemen will come, and then you hear the footsteps as they close in. But you could salvage your life, only if you do not answer and ignore the knock at the door.
Tomorrow we will celebrate a new sun, and days will be endless, coming from the west, there would be no need for scales and measures, and all we know will be obsolete. we have to open a new chapter, and start over again. The chaos will set and the sound of the sirens will echo. and something deep within all of us would rise, there will be chaos and we have to accept it. and all of this, this interruption, has imploded in us for we did not defend the heresy of our ignorance and the shame of our tolerance.
And for seven years and seven days and seven hours we orbit the earth and gather all we have, all that is left of collaborations of men and death. the soil will be as bare as the wombs of our daughter, and wives, and colors will disappear as we age faster within our time. Yes, we found the answer, we solved the puzzles and there was no alternative but death. But death is a new beginning, it always is.
Posted by Idinraha at December 1, 2005 04:34 PM