“Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy, or that anyone who embarks on the strange voyage can measure the tides and hurricanes he will encounter. The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events~Sir Winston Churchill”.
The map seems to be duplicated and the original annulled for the direction presently followed has strayed from the initial path.
We are directed by a band of swindlers who at this present time have leaked the sands of time in an attempt to derail us from all that we are to have.
The relay not being proportional to the delay leaves us empty, all because of miscalculation and human error.The greedy seeing only through its green eyes, views the world as a field of play while its citizenry are left only expectant of mediocrity.
Upon sober reflection I come to realize that I am but a man. For this reason I confess that in my sinful nature, I have soberly lusted for and after flesh , I have gazed upon the male-counterpart-the female: I have appraised her value seeing the body as but a commodity; I have shopped for and acquired pieces but yet my collection seems incomplete .
Each conquest only leading to the next,I feel like the Great Alexander; always in search of a new world but as soon as I have conquered and made my domaine known. The fruits of my flesh beseeched me to carryon.
I am a Maestro, full of knowledge and control but yet I have Lost hold of myself. I walk the walk of the lost, wondering the earth, cowed by my weakness,enslaved by my knowledge or should I say lack of it .
For the more I know the less I understand; a never ending thirst like the drinking of Saltwater. The distinction and decomposition of ideas into thought is my fermentation process; blotting my abominations and exposing its great folly.
Defiance towards goodness is embedded into my system , my schematics are to be configured towards the righteous-ways, but I yield to the flesh . Though I am Being battered insidiously until my lungs begin yield; loosing its breath of hope; I war within myself for I am but mortal man, a speck of dust in this world.
“By a curious confusion, many modern critics have passed from the proposition that a masterpiece may be unpopular to the other proposition that unless it is unpopular it cannot be a masterpiece~Gilbert K. Chesterton” my worth is to be questioned by these words. The light departs but my companion and shadow is never faraway.
As the hour glass exchanges its sand so also do I exchange my time for a change and new experience. The scale of justice sitting on it pivot leans towards the loaded end but I fear that my effort may not be sufficient to weigh in my favor though I “Look with favor upon a bold beginning~Virgil Thompson”.
The old cliche goes ” No condition is permanent” but with respite the end which is the conclusion is always almost never known. For the battle of life has an unforeseen path; all I am certain of is the need to act, but the goal at the end of the line I am yet to see.