A Brother's Betrayal

"To those who cast lots with the foolish, I pity you. To those who take a chance with the decietful, I can only feel sorry for you. Your madness is a crushing blow dealt with the sword to the back. Those who give shelter to the wicked and the unrighteous are just as horrid as their guests. Is this what we have come to!? You sicken me with your wickedness, you have spat upon the feet of those who would give you life, give you peace. You have betrayed your friends, betrayed your family! You are a damned soul, a pitiful waste, and I loathe you for this. You bring your sickness upon the people like a chariot of fire brings waste upon a crop. You anger me with your immaturity, your imputence. This is no manner in which a man should make his life, but you choose to do so. Your presence among the great kings of old is like a plague upon this great nation, this great people. Get thee out! Return nevermore! You are a bastard child of a selfish thieving prince of greed and an adultrous whore of babylon. You make your home on the backs of the innocent, preying on their love and kindness. You come forth tricking my people, you bring threats of violence, an unholy mockery! Death is your name and hate is your creed. You come begging at the gates of the great city, begging to walk upon the streets of gold. You are a damned fool for this! Pitiful loatshome serpent from the pits of fire and brimstone, get thee out! Your evil knows no bounds and your trickery has no end. You bring a black cloud of sadness and death over my great country. I say thee now son of evil, leave this land or be slain by thine hand! You shall no longer hold any dominion over my people, they shall no longer feel your icy hand upon their cheeks, your hot breath upon their brow. You are cursed doubly and eternally, and this is your fate forevermore. I command thee flee this great land! Your pestilence shall no longer trouble this great country anymore. Though my fathers pitied you long ago, you shall find no pity from me. You were once my friend, my brother in arms, I loved you. The path you chose has now taken a wicked bend which cannot be overturned. You were once great and majestic, a great prince, but has fallen from grace unto the dying lands. So now I say, brother, leave us now in peace, or be slain. This is my final compromise."

The Journey

"He has lost his way, this lowly wanderer. He has lost his sight, and is blind. He has lost his voice, and is mute. He has lost his the ability to hear, and is deaf. He can no longer take part in the dance, therefore he is lame. He moves through time, a lost man. He has no direction, no path unto which to follow. No faith to follow, and in this he is hopeless. He no longer can feel the kiss of life, and his soul can no longer answer to the great call of The One, therefore he is devoid of life. Through trials and tribulations, through the fire and the flame, he has travelled, yet is no victor. Though he tries to hear again, to see, to dance, to touch, he cannot. He traverses through great valleys of rock and sand, through great forests, past rushing rivers and the roaring seas, but yet cannot find the life he once had. How far has this man fell from grace? He has heard the muses of the king, the triumphant calls of the golden coronets of old. He has seen the great banners fly, the great city of the new age, yet he has no voice with which to call unto them. The glories he had once shared with his kin, he can longer partake of. The sweet manna, milk, and honey no longer caress his lips. The stroke of the painter's brush no longers has a place for him on the great canvas. What has he done? This man tries to call out, to shout to the heavens above. Where is his voice? He cries, where are his tears? What has he done? Is there such a salvation for this? Will the fire fall from the heavens and give him the flame he once had carried? What must this man do to find his salvation? This man, once the prophet, once the teacher, once the disciple has fallen to ruin. What has he done? Is there a gift of life for this man? Is there redemption for him? Shall he take his place among the stars again? The beacon shines brightly, shall he see once again? Will he answer the call again? Is this man worthy? Many men question throughout their lives why they exist, what their purpose is. This man has lost his way, who will help him? Who shall help him carry the burden of his cross? Who shall help him back to that mighty hill? Cleanse their spirits and be whole again?"

Awakening

"A majestic rain falls upon this land. It seeps into the earth, shes quenchs her thirst. She feeds her children, the gift of life graciously given by the one unto all of the creations of this world. A sweet kiss upon the cheek, children running freely through the thickets, and a fond farewell to the deep sadness that had engulfed the world of old. The children now live in a vast realm of beauty, light, and sound that no one yet has seen, heard, or felt. They feel the rush of the wind upon them, the whispers of the past. The beauty of the world they barely know, but yet know more now then any other who has lived. The swift rising of the sun drenches the new world in splendour. a bead of dew slowly falls, deer dancing in the forest, life renewed. The great castles of old stand the test of time, the thousand year sleep has not forgotton them, however. They stand on weakened foundations, on the brink of demise. The old world, the woes of a bitter nation, an ungratefull people, are now dead and gone. He walks with his children, he brings them great joy. He fills their hearts with great wisdom. The great city lies upon the hill, many bear the great banner, hear the trumpet sound, see the colors fly. Like a great host they flock to the shores of this great city, eager to bask in its glory and brilliance. Like a great beacon of light in the night sky it shines for all to see. The children gather around The One and ask, "How shall we get to this great city?" He answers to them "Through faith". Very few words were spoken by him unto the children, but in those words lies the hope of generations. How shall we enter the gates of that golden city? The words ring true for all of us in times of trouble and woe. Just as the city is a beacon to the people, shall the words spoken be so also. "Through Faith."

The Wanderer and the King

"I tread upon the paths of the righteous, and the foolish. I see the success, and the failures of the great men of our time, and of the past. Like statues, ancient moniliths of an long forgotten civilization they stand. The ground beneath my feet is cool, the sky, a beautiful magenta as the rising sun brings forth a new day upon this world. A warm breeze slowly caresses my face, gently weaves through my hair, and engulfs my soul. I see the paths of the reckless, and the careless as they go on a careening path to nowhere. My soul aches with a longing question that haunts my dreams and my very soul "Where does my path lead me?" My soul seeks an adventure into the unknown. To relive ancient kingdoms come and gone. To see the past through an open mind, and a fresh heart, a deepened soul. The crowned kings of old painting portraits with far more beauty that anyone could imagine. The piper, the servants, the jester all listen as their king tells them tales of the ancient times far beyond the memories of those alive today. All of them in that court of alabaster and ivory go to their own dwellings with dreams far grander then any paintbrush could create on the canvas. They dream of heroes, of journeys to a distant unkown, living in their imaginations as it engulfs them like a wave upon the shore. They dream a peaceful dream, of light, and color and splendour. The have been blessed on this, the night of nights. The lucid dream they see, live, love; it moves them, it moves their souls. It moves them all to a far greater understanding of this world, of its innonence, beauty, and its soul. The songs of the ancient race fill their hearts and minds; Their cup runneth over. They see with glistening eyes far more then any mortal could ever see. They see riches far grander then any man could wish to possess. They go on a journey to discover life, to discover hope, to dream. They race upon wind hewn lawns, telling tales under the moonlight, and the starlight. The campfires dot the horizon like a great gathering of fireflies. Even on the brink of destruction they stand, united together by a common hope, a common dream. They dream the dreams we all share. Their dreams more vivid then any reality, then any spectrum of beauty and nature that has been, or ever will be on this earth. They live their lives upon a chosen creed: Love is everlasting, peace will unite the people, and life will always find a way."

My name is Jonah

"I walk in the cold, desolate realm of the unknown, and the unwanted. I wage war against those who would do me wrong, or patronize me in my quest. My enemies are within, and all around I see them. I long for the days that I knew long before these days became me. The air grows darker, thinner, devoid of the life it once had. It has little meaning anymore in the dark stretches of this vast sea of ineptitude and deceit. The devil has many faces, many vile guises to trick the nations, and many temptations on which to fool the weak. Have I fallen prey to such promises? Though I fight him, his treasures I cannot resist. But before him I walk, alone, but never without. I lead many on the sunken trails towards the promised land. Tears be my guide and my vengeance, my light in the dark. A prophet am I, who seeks The One. Who seeks retribution for the crimes against his children. A dark disciple, an unforboding messenger, an indifferent saint am I. I carry his word to the people in this hallow time. My rod and staff are upon my chest, my guilded armor above my brow. My hands are the doers of his word, my evils also. I carry the light of his word, bearing the burden of Man upon my back. The earth trembles beneath me, but I know wherever I walk, I shall not falter. My name is Jonah, and I am the one you seek. My name is Jonah, and I am coming."

The Lost Child

"It sweeps like a wave upon the shore, the sands of time seeping slowly into the vast and endless sea. Its movements methodical, it remembers the day. It remembers a time in which it blossomed freely, open to new ideas and emotions. The great beautiful spectrum of color and wisdom that crept into its inner being, but now cant find a way through anymore. It has become lost on the brink of a new dawn that threatens all it has ever known, and will know. It has become Its own greatest fear, Its own darkest, most desperate desire. The inner demons rising from the ashes of the bitter winter into a dark and terrible sunrise, and the swift awakening of spring. Its only hope is that the one will rise again, to overcome and join its bretheren to arms again, to defend its freedom and way of life. But until that day, it remains a slave unto them, itself, the dark churnings of an endless precipice of black. It dreams of the freedom it once had, that it hopes to own once again. Will it ever be at peace again? Will the one awaken in time to save the weary souls of this world...?"

Take Me

"Darkness, take me. Take me away to the sea of your ever calming presence. Take me away to that bittersweet utopia that I dream, that I loath, that I love. Darkness, creeping towards the inner boundaries of my heart, sweep me away to roads untraveled, down weeping lawns and shallow holds, through bitter cold and rain. Take me away to the seething end of time as it slips away, as I slip away. Darkness, take me to a place that I may roam free and wander as I may, redefining my own presence and place upon this bitter rock of earth and sea. Let me slip into your devine waters, weep wine and drink joy and feel no more. Take me, for it shall be thy greatest achievment, the moment of bliss awaits us all in the shadows of our souls that no man or beast dare to dwell, our true home. Though we may be lost, in ourselves only shall we be found, in shadow."

Guilty Conscience

"Cold as dust til the burning dawn, I stare into the pale shattered glass. Old, wrinkled; All I see turns to dust and pale ash in the moonlight. The sun doesn't matter anymore. A former shadow of itself as it sinks into the ground. Cold and relentless is the night. I stay awake wondering why I ever knew, why I might be here. And then I realize that there must be something that turns to dust. I wait for the one who is to come, but he never shows. Why must I be the judge of things to come? Am I worth more than a grain of sand in the wind? I guess the sun does speak after all, and his name is death, and thou art with him"