Saturday, April 9, 2016

shadowline saga: episode 4 - after darkness

Inside the buildings the people are hiding. Within the churches the people are praying. Outside there are screams and terror. The shadows have come alive, walking the earth drawing innocent blood. The end had only just begun, though several months have passed. The chosen few had been called back to their maker, deemed worthy. Those left watched the indignity of the end of their world. And the beginning of hell on earth.

Some of us chose to continue our faith, worshipping our gods out of some hope that they would pity our acursed souls. We believed that there was only one faith, one true path to paradise. But we were deluded fools, never realizing that the truth was a unification of the world's spiritual creed. Specially after the wicca and Muslim ascending side by side with the disciples of the lord.

We saw our world turn from a thing of beauty to a dystopia of sorrow and misery. How could we have known that on the day we learned of other worlds we were dooming our own? How could we have known that the day we were to finally traverse to another heavenly body we were really breaking through our own glass ceiling? We have broken the frail crystal ceiling keeping us grounded and broken into the gates of hell. Now we are trapped in a war that we never wanted to fight; on a world we never thought we would lose.

Outside the bloodshed continues, the darkness and light at ends with each other like a lone tree surrounded by desertification. The people have taken refuge within their places of worship, singing hymns and arias. But who are they singing to? Who are they trying to call out to? The prelude to this war came and we ignored it. Now our gods abandon us to die.

Those who started this war have always been there, hiding in plain sight. They were there when we killed the gypsies and exiled the jews. They were there when we fought, a nation divided. They were there when we fought to keep up a wall. They were there when we died from plagues and filthe. And they were there the day the towers fell. They've always Been there among us, the seven enemies of man.

Now we stand here drowning, in blood and fear, as our world slowly burns. Ashes to ashes; dust to dust. And thusly our world ignites into flames. Peace; bye peace. How arrogant we were. How foolish we've acted. Now amidst it all we live forever in the hell we have created.

I was called myself, but I refused to leave. I will not leave my people, not when they need me more than ever. They are a meek fearful race, deserving salvation no matter their transgressions. As does all life. I have chosen to stay behind and watch over my people, over my brothers and sisters. This world of eternal torment and this war need a beacon of hope, a hero to guide them.

Whether my actions actually make a difference or not I do not know. Nor will I care. For I am who I always was and will always be: a messenger of light, of darkness, of dreams and despair; of past, present, and future. and of peace, faith...and hope. Maybe one day we will find our way out of the false luminescence created by the flames that so damn our eternal souls, and into the true light of the gods. Or perhaps the light is a lie that the hopeless use to justify their actions against those who would sin against the creeds they so dearly follow.

One way or another, like the sun shining after a terrible storm; after darkness, the light WILL follow. but for now our world burns piece by piece. Peace, bye peace; all will fall.

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