Discourse #1 #2 and #3

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
After I had ended my Tangents series, I still had a lot of random and stray thoughts coursing through my mind. So the birth of my Discourses were made to carry on the randomness that is my mind.

Submitted: December 08, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 08, 2011





Discourse # 1

We flow ever more closer to our own destruction, riding the wave that is our own undoing. We rape, and murder. Pillaging our way ahead, our empire in ash, roads in ruin as we march forward. Children of chaos, children of the Apocalypse watching it unfold before their eyes through a shiny box, no longer recognizing their own reflections. Deliver the final blow, cripple their reserves and then when they least expect it demolish any hope to flee, to escape. To secure victory, sacrifice decency all in the name of glory, under the ruse of safety. There shall be no freedom to be had, only iron and chains. Shackles that will be sought. Then when the fog of confusion settles and the blood on the field dries, the silent cries will be heard. Echoing the pain across the lifeless wastes.


Discourse # 2

We are lost, children of gods, children of sins. Searching for answers in a text book of mistakes and that of failure, a world gone mad. We close ourselves off to the world outside, Strangers pass like cars on the highway. Never willing to accept an idea or thought that might jeopardize their own reality, their own paradigm. The rich and the poor alike will lay eyes to the ivory towers of desolation. Marching head on into the void of oblivion. Oh child of greed, victim to the tides of mortal desires, prey to the self righteous, blood meal for their morbid devices. We are the living, the breathing testimonies to the Angels and the demons that spawn the myths and the legends.

We truly are the children of gods, the power we posses yet cannot obtain. For it lies right before our vary eyes like a magicians trick it vanishes under the cloak of illusion. We each hold a piece, like a key to the lock that binds us in ignorance. 'An intelligent being is not what we are but rather defines us as who we are


Discourse # 3

The only magic that exists anymore is to be found within the T.V.
Mysteries and Gods played out for the world to see. Gold, silver and gems line the channels as you casually change the station. Egos and dramas unfold before your naked eyes and in no time you are lost within the jungle of madness; propaganda. Caught within it's addictive web, you believe in what that magic box tells you, and lost becomes your rationality to any common sense. Mindlessly you click away, brainwashed to the current trends, hypnotized by the flashy lights of the current hype.

“Are you sure you know what you are fighting for?
Do you even remember the purpose behind this war?
You kill and conquest, and all for what?
The power and control, all to just market your soul?
When did humanity become a commodity,
to be bartered on the slab, as the stock share will rise.
When a welfare system thats doomed to fail.”

We can often place more value over our monitors than that of a human life. Some desperately seeking an escape only find yet another trap has been laid. We lost our way, we have became detached from our roots and too dependent upon a broken system, upon a technological infant. It was once said, “Every stone shall be touched, every dark tunnel explored and every drop of rain felt.” It's just an experience shared, as every fallen angel is just a person who hurts. To drown within the sea of despair, only to wash up on the shores of hope, and wipe your sins as every drop of water captures all the darkness. A conscious thought becomes our living action and every reason is minute. Where darkness dwells within every man's heart so does a spark of humanity. Few see the clarity to know and understand the basic nature of our humanity, and the delicate line that separates good intent from our dark and carnal desires. If we destroy ourselves, then it will truly be too late to learn from others our true value and worth in this reality.

   “Voices whisper in your head,
Voices whisper things better left unsaid
hoping to dance with an Angel after taking
the devil's hand. Running with broken dreams
While sheltering a shattered faith. Sacrifices
made for just ghosts of a shadow, no real value.
Defiant till your last breath, that in your mind,
your reality. The temple of gold
becomes your sanctuary, a treasure
beyond monetary gain. A jewel to be
cherished, A confession sought on their
death bed of desperation. A life lived in
excess, sin and depravity and now in his final
hour he seeks redemption. Fear
leads his heart and his mind, A purgatory,
for this man's final moments shall be that of regret.”   

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