As the sun dawns on a crimson day the warrior stains the ground with the blood of his enemy, washing his hands of the night before in the river of now he wonders about his life and all of its trivial pursuits. Knowing that the land he fights for is his own, it justifies itself to the men who died for its grasp, looking to his "friends" he sees the look of a hungry dog and the smell of weakness from the stench of his own fatigue. He ponders the thought of true allies and the notion that they are merely there as long as the benefit is great, testing time he walks his line and trying to find his own mind he becomes lost in what is truly yours and mine. Lonely footsteps follow this walker as he treks away from this blood thirsty village of darkened minds, he now searches for the lost greatness of his people. Climbing to the top of the holy mountain he stumbles upon an old man with the laughing sickness, the man grasps at his chest begging him for salvation. The warrior pulls his flint blade from its sheath and puts it to the throat of the old man, a smile creeps across his withered face as he see the threshold of pure enlightenment. feeling the leather grip of his blade and the soft smell of mountain air he feels the muscle of his forearm tighten to cut to sickness from this man's body. The clouds above him part, drifting down from the heavens a hawks feather falls upon the warriors blade. Seeing the omen for all that is, he realizes what he had almost done and smiles to the old man who now (looking a thousand years brighter) crosses his arms and touches the warrior on his forehead with the tip of his so called index finger. From the mans body to the warriors mind a strain of light forms and a bead of energy ignites the cold reaches of his lost and icy skull. The young brute falls to his knees and knows the path on which he must walk, looking to the old man who was now hovering above the trail with a all knowing smile creeping across his face, they laugh proudly crumbling the once thought taboos of his human condition. The warrior treks down from the mountain and back to his people, changing the face of the world under each step of his leather wrapped feet. encountering the first hungry glance of his once loved brother he touches him on his hand and for the first time with ought fear the not so hungry one stands and smiles to the peace full warrior. he leads the man by the hand to the center of the tribe and there they sit by the fire closing their worldly receptors to change the thought of man. As they begin a strong wind starts whipping through the woods. with fear in his mind the leader of these darkened people swiftly moves to the men to stop there ungodly actions and save his people from the wind that meant to destroy everything he knew, but as he stepped close to the change he became exactly what me most feared and falling to the ground, from his body grew a tree. Dark and crimson bark emerged from this creation flowers and fruit grew from the stalk of this fibrous form. As the peace full warrior opened his eyes he saw a world very different from the one he had once known, bright and color full the earth stood new and fresh. The people laid their weapons at the foot of the once blood soaked warrior and looked to him to start on their path of new found righteousness. He said with one wise tone to the people of the world "Look not to me to find yourselves, look to the wind and the rain of what we have once committed, because only when we have learned why this change was necessary will we be able to maintain it" understanding this they lept to action and left their mortal confinements behind, and finding the bright ones sitting next to an old juniper tree they embraced their own enlightenment.
"The Stoned Apprentice"
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Melodic Vernacular For A New Age
Living the lie we tell ourselves, our souls dwindle like the grains in a hourglass, and our minds grow ever more diluted by the actions of our fellow man. To win the war against ourselves we must unite against our greed and disparity and join in a singular cause, which is our own survival. The gifts of humanity are great and the strengths we posses are insurmountable, when will we know the power we hold in our hearts, when will we see the reflection standing before us. We live to work in this world and money is the ultimate reward for our actions, these paper credit cards will one day destroy us, and all who once saw us as the bright and vibrant children that once walked this earth. But fear not young earth folk, for the battle has not yet been won. I once wrote a phrase down on a sheet of paper that spoke of this and in one sentence it said all that was needed, TO FIND THE LINE HIDDEN BY THE SANDS OF TIME WE MUST FIRST BIND THE THOUGHTS OF YOURS AND MINE TO TURN THE TIDE AGAINST MANKIND. Truly this speaks of the grace and wisdom we once had but in our own mind's we lost this line and covered it with the sands of time, the only way to defeat the darkness of us is to come together and think beyond ourselves, maybe then when the selfish nature of our greed is gone we may find everything that we have lost in this realm and reclaim it for our world. A change is coming for this world and everyone who lives among it, this time will be filled with great darkness and pain, but only in the dark can we profoundly see the light. their are few among us with light inside ourselves enough light to shine a path into the dark, each path may be different but each end is the same, when all the lights meet at the end of the journey they will create the great light which will cast out the dark. LET US HOPE FOR THE FUTURE OF OURSELVES.
"The Stoned Apprentice"
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