The Pen And The Prophet

Another rambling of thoughts manifested.

 

Who walks in fear of possessing lies that faiths have misused for countless eons? A gap is bridged in the promises that have all but lost their meaning in the void of the cosmos. What tempting monster has it’s fangs buried in our fate? Is it our folly that makes us blind, or is it our stupidity? All along the edge of reality crawls the tormented. Those who fall are never seen again. And what pours forth is naught but steaming nonsense of all that once were. And after all the thoughts and imagination are ripped from our lucid dreams, what will be left? Already, we plague each other with our grief. Already, we herd together in mind and body like cattle. All that remains is the slaughterhouse. All that is left is the inevitability of our demise in the stark reality that brings about the end. Is there anyone anymore with the great words to lead those of us who are less fortunate? Does the pen lead itself on this well-traveled road in a false belief that it is deep and thought provoking? Does this writer truly believe he has glimpsed into the well of eternity to bring forth a morsel of forbidden knowledge? Does a wise man truly ask more questions than he answers? We must learn in our hearts to find the way for ourselves. The way to new worlds is not within the footsteps of those in front of us. To live is not to believe what we see and hear, but to question all that is around us. We are by no means infinite in our knowledge. The more observant will find secrets where fools thought none existed. And what is passed off as a lunatic’s rambling to some will be the very essence of the profound to others. Just drift along through the confusion as we try to discern one from the other amidst the beleaguered corpse or our souls…