When there are dull moments you wonder to yourself how and why.
What then does one do when all else is far and ever good for those that seek the truth. Those dark stairwells that wind down into the pits of hell? Are there creatures that lurk deep within them in the dark. THe screeching that echos in the dark. Are they not about the wonders that give forth the faces that bring misery.
Clearly you are wondering what the words are when you eyes read them. Do you picture them as you go down the pit, into the abyss. Does your minds eye lead you or do you tell it to. Are there no other way to go about the answers we all seek. Truth is hard to see what it is taht brings about the death of that one you seek.
Are the screams you hear outside of your gates, angry and fearful. Is this what we all seek when we go down the stairs into the pits of hell? You see the numbers grow and the anger fueled by fear deep inside them. They are all just children, just like we were once children.
Do not despair when they break down the gate and rush into the breach. The breach that was borne from anger through fear and anger. There will be executions but what about the fallen. The forgotten. The truth hurts. It fills all that it touches. Fear. It is deep. It is large. And it grows.
Are there no other way to come about the destruction than to see how the truth burns. Burns. With malice. For the angry and the fearful are all that matters. They come seeking the truth but burning the books. Steel themselves into the unknown. The power taht comes forth from the horrors that wait outside and inside. Within. Being and not being.
What then must one do to allow for the beast to be unleashed.
Unleashed with fury.
Fury for the lost.
Lost but not forgotten.