the haunting

The tall tower of darkness raises high above the city. The haunting notes of the prayer float down from the mountaintop. The melody briefly dropping down and kissing the cheeks, blowing past the ears of the people living in the stillness below. Through the windows of people still deep asleep in their beds. The taunting of the deceiver raises some from their beds to the actions that will grant them entrance. The repetitive words and motions giving comfort and stability in a great big world of uncertainty. The people who answer the call shroud themselves in their holy deeds and the safety that comes with religious trappings. The ones who walk in truth who do not answer the tempters call, sense the undertones of evil and darkness and unintentionally shiver, from the contrast. Once, twice, three times, five times a day the song repeats and the zombies rise from their graves and pay homage to the grim reaper.

disenchantment

At the bottom of the alter looking up at what we desire to be. The embodiment of our dreams, the soundtrack to all of our memories of learning and growth. the vision has been cast. The challenge made. As reflection is made the streams of just as i am float into my stream of conscienceness. Then, all goes black and I see that the object of my admiration is laying at the bottom of the alter, not completely shattered, just bruised and battered. As I stare I begin to cry and through my tears the broken bits blur and the whole emerges. I realize that brokeness isn't the end. Adam brought the brokeness to us. And as a result we are all just broken and bruised laying at the foot of someones alter.

tsfa ala

Why does it have to be so confusing? I always thought it would be glorious and exciting, but then it came and the changes were so slight I didn’t notice at first. I didn’t see it coming. And truthfully, the longer it went the more I dreaded the coming. And then, one day I wake up, and it has taken over me. The person I once was is gone replaced by this new person. Responsibility, what is that, who wants that? But having people count on you. Being that person. Becoming intoxicated by the sense of power and purpose. There another step is taken. Realizing that what was up is now down and the things that used to rule all are now slightly less important. They are thought about slightly less. Optimism is slipping away, and you sit watching it go wishing it would come back but powerless to stop it. What is left isn’t exactly pessimism, just a realization that the world isn’t as great as you want it to be, that people aren’t all good and just waiting for someone to show them how to be good. There is this jaded slightly hard part that when it surfaces it is like you are watching yourself react and judging negatively those actions taken and thoughts thought and then you slowly come back to yourself and realize it is yourself that you are judging, you have become that which you once despised….only it snuck up so quickly you didn’t catch it, you didn’t stop it, and now you don’t know how to go back, how to look at the things around you and see a room full of shiny opportunity instead of opportunistic souls and hollowed out shells of people who also once thought that a better world was just around the horizon, that greatness was there for the taken and that it was good. That war was a glorious endeavor that would lead to admiration and a sense that you helped to create a better place. Instead you look around at the blood and the nastiness around you and realize that it isn’t glorious, not at all, it is only people who have become blind to the fact that those things across the chasm, aren’t just things they are people thy are souls that long for something better, something bigger, just like you do, that thing over there is a mirror image of yourself, and in it you see the light dimming in their eyes and you see that the shininess is wearing off to reveal a slightly rusted out version of a former life. And as you stand there across that rift suddenly you realize that the glories you are looking for aren’t going to be found in destroying that thing over there, it is going to be found by restoration, by adding some paint, covering up the bruises. That will always be a weak point, but now, but now, there is something new. Something that gives you that feeling in the pit of your stomach like when you were a kid when you heard stories of bravery and heroism……you feel hope.