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.