Zealous charge

Times stopped again, the feeling as surreal as ever. So certain by it one can compare it with the certainty of the rising sun.

As time has stopped it has waited for transition, the era once known gone, such acts and behaviours must be phased away.

The new song to follow old, but anew. It has waited even after your failures. It cannot wait forever, its time to leap, to make the charge. Its doors readily open and primmed to shut with swift cause.

Times ticking, all to familiar.
Make that noble note, perhaps to even be reconciled, to walk your own path that you have stumbled off.

The reclamation of your rights.
The gates are shutting, times ticking back.

Its time.

Death closes all: but something ere in the end, some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods

Symphony of the Solitude

Death closes all: but something ere in the end, some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods

Wandering through the timeless maze, baffled and lost once again. Tricked and fooled by a guide less sense of curiosity, no idea where I am.

As I sit patiently, the thoughts that have stood still have begun to work their gears again, though they should be rusted and worn, they feel as if they've become a new. As if nothings changed and its just deja vu .

Let the peace sink in, though it might feel like a cold dagger through your heart, it's the gentle slide of the orchestrated hand. It rests here to play the final tune, playing it in solitude, alone and crude. Let it not be feared.

Times best to be moving on, such things just must be.

Now, let us sit back with contempt and gratitude. To praise those gone, to long for those unseen.
Let us hear the song, let me hear the song. Just let me be, please.

"We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where the sunset left us"

"Find something to believe in and find it for yourself. And when you do, pass it on to the future"

Spirit of the Night

"If you're going to doubt yourself, I'll leave you here. ... Never doubt yourself. Only let it make you stronger."

Still and restless, tired and awake. Dreaming for too long, its time to wake up. Wander along the tall grass, to gaze upon the endless sky, to drift past the stars and see the world a new.

"We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where the sunset left us"

"I've never been interested in other people's lives"

Subjective, cultural, Structural

Whats it worth?

Whats your name?

Does it matter?
I've never been interested in other people's lives

Just

Observing from afar, just as an astronomer would gazing at the night sky; observing the the never ending view of space and its beauty.

Just ... different? I don't know

"To judge you by your failures is to cast blame upon the seasons for their inconstancy"

As quick as the wind changes and as fast as the tides hit the Earth, it seems I too have left the impression of passing and difference from old.

"We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where the sunset left us"

"And is not time even as love is, undivided and paceless?
But if in thought you must measure time into seasons, let each season encircle all the other seasons.
And let to-day embrace the past with remembrance and the future with longing"

Night,
Rest Easy

Path of the Soul

Say not, "I have found the the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."
Say not, "I have found the path of the soul."
Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."
For the soul walks upon all paths.
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
the soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of contntless petals.

Seeing the truth blindly and as clearly as I see the day and people around me, to what fortune will this new found glory lead to? The dreams of old become anew ...

Perhaps this will shed some light on the shadows that you walk across to, but know that the fires will not keep it lit forever, it will fade to be never seen again.

Speak of talking.
And he answered, saying:
You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart and live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words may indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.


Good Night,
Rest Easy

Redemption

"The great questions of the day will not be settled by means of speeches and majority decisions but by iron and blood."

Tears fall from the heavens, cleansing the Earth, Terra, our world. In so doing the motions of the world spin and the great clockwork of ancient thoughts and ideas once again turn their old pulls and levers to adjust the rights and wrongs of the world.

To look upon an open window and see the world through the eyes of a hero, they too look back and see innocence blinded by dreams of glory and of meaning. They of innocence, with open eyes miss what they long for, so close and yet so far.

To hear the thundering Earth, to hear the cracking of the ground, the heroism of humanity and its fellow people raise their flag in freedom and progress. To what extent do such dreams put on the lives and souls of the people that carry out the tasks of the gods?
The people only suffer from those with whom they place in control, the masses follow the ideas of a common goal and seek to follow in the footsteps of societies heroes, to place their mark on society, to have made a difference and an impact.
Their dreams looked upon with a harsh tone and remark, the pain that is endured is one that would be liken to have never of taken place.

To know complete freedom in all, Impossible. Conflict shall forever remain as light will.

Though my dreams are to endeavor and make something of myself, to be remembered by at least someone in someway. The greatest fear, the shadow I cast, is to be completely forgotten, why does such an idea plague the mind.
To see such feats performed by others only further carries that ambition to pursue, but to what cause.

"So long as there is light... there will always be a shadow"

Rest Easy,

Call to Arms

"You were the lightning in that rain. You can still shine through the darkness"

Where will we be when we cease through?
Like a madman ranting of ideas incomprehensible to his fellow man, those lost today become the bearers of the light the next.

When will the hourglass tip? The string of life to play its final perfected tune?
Contemplating what Ive done, do, feel and react. The question remains of why you, even after everything, are still retained. Why do you still stay?

The winds don't take you as easily as any other thought. Have you anchored your ship and docked, but with what cargo do you carry. Why do you still stay?

The ambassador greets, but with every passing moment no clearer do your intentions become, why even as the light with all its shining power do you still find a way to pass and reach the chambers hidden within?

Good Night

Rest Easy,

like a distant star

"It even rained the day I was born"

Frolicking through thoughts, wanting to sway my free arms though the strings of thoughts, to be care free, to pull on them, to hear the vibrant emotions, to see and feel them as they flow through the air and dance creating a stage of windows into another realm.

To sit idle, with shut eyes and an open mind,
To once again feel the wind of free thoughts and speech,
To again know the suns rays on the skin of innocence and pure,
To no longer be constrained by correctness and duty,

To reminisce on such thoughts, pointless and incorrect, for a world with such freedom and no constraints would only lead to chaos, chaos on the world and on the fragile and magnificent mind in humanity.

"An open mind is like a fortress with its gates unbarred and unguarded"

Complete control does not create a key to every locked door, for those doors shut, doors of secrets and mysteries remain closed only to be opened by those willing to bear the contents inside.

Rest Easy,

What are you?

"To know the pain of too much tenderness"

I don't know anymore, I don't know what I've missed, what I've longed for.

I wish for it yet, yet know it be nearly impossible at this stage.

I don't know when the great clock will deem it right, I don't know when the hourglass shall be empty, no more will I wait, no more will I idly wait patientally.
How I seek the great northern wind to remind of what Ive lost by seeking shelter.

For now we, I wait.
I can hold on, I know I wont be forgotten.

"And if any of you would punish in the name of righteousness and lay the axe unto the evil tree, let him see to its roots;"

Good Night,

Rest Easy

This place is haunted ...

"Beliefs are only marginally rational, if they are rational at all."

Hypcritcal, selfish, paranoid, lost and unforgettable. How I loathe you at times, and cherish you the next. Such great spirit and passion is seen and as easily as its seen its wiped away and forgotten only to be found again.

Will you just make up your mind? Ive waited patiently and rationally, yet you creep in and haunt me ... or do you? I don't know what emotions you evoke anymore.
Please let me be and go gently with the wind. I know why, I dont question it anymore but I've made up my mind.
Till that day I keep on waiting, with the suns rays to give me strength and peace. To know that freedom ...

"Come quick! They're ready! They look... yummy! Sorta like the sun. It's rising again..."

Rest Easy,

We are Legion, for we are many

I'm a shadow, one that no light will shine on. As long as you follow me, you'll never see the day.

What holds a man together? What holds any of us together?
For some it may be friendship, a passion, love, a philosophy or belief. Either way they are Ideas. Ideas can be the most powerful tool and asset someone may possess and share.
For when one has departed the green hills of Earth, to have ceased to exist an idea lives on.

For me? I not too sure, its an idea. But the idea seems too surreal that it would only emerge and present itself in a dream, and then it too sounds too surreal to be even in a dream at all. To be someone you want to be, yet are halted and blocked. Not by an outside force, not by someone else, but by yourself ... the greatest enemy, it knows you through and through and every sin and demon within ... but why must they be so vivid? Whats real and a fragment of thoughts and dreams? They have lasted so long, they amass as a legion and wipe the memory clean, merging and creating anew.
Though the memories I hold, the ones I hold now I wish to keep, for they may be intrusive and odd to others but create a fascinating canvas for any task whats so ever. Though they may be seen as a wonderful array of colours to like that a rainbow to a child with a pot of gold at the end. I know too certain to what end they lead to, to what where they originate, but to what end will they branch off to?

The means of creating a world where I wish to live and pursue is already here. I cant imagine how it would have been for those explorers venturing off to the new world. Such pursuit for a new world, the exploration, the duty to extend ones reach and cultural literacy is dazzling.

For now the night sky provides enough motivation and an endless pool of dreams and fantasies to keep a civilization going, and certainly me. A dreamer, who only wants to see.

As the roaring crowds cheer, the roads are filled with raining red, red silk falls on the Knights that now return. As heroes they return.
The Crusades end, an era of peace, justice and security falls.

Though for nearly 1000 thousand years the story of these knights, this Crusade, which has inspired so many people, poems, songs, literature, art, beliefs and even the foundations of today goes to be told with lies.
The heroes of yesterday are what they are, but we admire the false, those who are the true and noble go unforgotten.

For now we make do, for the real heroes shall be remembered, they only have to be searched for.

I leave now, but I leave a quote for inspiration and for its beauty:

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”

Eleanor Roosevelt (20th Century USA)

Any fool can create words that evoke and give the illusion of wisdom, but it takes a different kind of person to put such words into action.

Good Night,
Rest Easy