To Burn...

I have lost the ability to care at the moment. Even if the world were ending right this second, I would still keep writing. I would be left alone to my own demise and willingly accept this end. If so, this would be the way it should be, with the fires of the end to consume this composite world; for it to die by the hand of the mother they had forgotten about. And that death of this world would be so beautiful…just like Nero watching Rome burn, while playing his lyre. To watch the cities fall into the seas…to watch their homes fall apart, and to watch their ivory towers burn down to the back of the workers that they built their bases on. The fires would just be so beautiful…now, what can that attitude say about my character?

          To see the beauty in destruction…or to know that destruction is a form of creation. The end is merely a new beginning…a new start. A chance to rise from the ashes and start over…and maybe, in all of this hate and loss, I will learn…

 

“Stones taught me to fly,

love, it taught me to lie.

Life taught me to die…

so it’s not hard to fall

when you float like a cannonball…”

 

Daniel Helle, First of June, Two Thousand and Eleven.

Reviews

[Jessi Berlasty]

"Even if the world were ending right this second, I would still keep writing." That line puts me in the mind of Isaac Asimov. "If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I wouldn't brood. I'd type a little faster."

Your writing is getting very philosophical. I love it!

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the logic of this chapter.
“Stones taught me to fly,
love, it taught me to lie.
Life taught me to die…
so it’s not hard to fall
when you float like a cannonball…”
Thank you for the strong chapter. A excellent logic on life.
Coyote

[Rene Velez]

nice writing Luke, visually stunning...

[WordNerd]

Wow amazing write!!