Of Men & Honour
Pages from "The Chronicle"
I believe in the skies that open through when I wanted.
I believe in the winds that cut across my face the moment I wish them.
I believe in the waters that freeze its flow if I just thought.
I believe in the earth that will rise to a towering, complying with my summoning.
But Men, they are a lost belief. I washed my hands off that faction, the moment they stopped believing in love. In truth, it was their only source of power. A power so strong that would put any other to meaninglessness and thus, their greatest.
I clearly have seen it. There was this time when men held greater power than any other being that walked these planes. Any Battle that raged couldn't have unfolded such glory without them. Some they won, some they lost. But "somehow" by an uncanny course of events they always survived the greatest of disasters, multitude of Armageddon, Wars that have wiped out generations... what ever it was they always lived to tell the tale.
It was as though a Great Hand of Favor swept across all nations and across battlefields, whispering what could be the fate, which was in favor of its denizens. And why were they favored by their fate or the Hand was a question better unanswered for there was a charm it bore that gave Men a respect and a reason to live for.
The "Somehow" carried only one explanation: In all the many battles, I've fought side by side with men; I've always glared into the eyes of the soldiers just when the battle cries was about to echo a multiple times across the raging planes and as we were to wait still for the enemies to leash out their fury. Just then, at that very moment, their eyes were always transfixed to some place else. It had led them somewhere, far away from the battlefields, where they no more grip the swords and axes, a place where blood is only a meaning of bond and not something that is strewn all over. A sheer sense of intense human reality reeks that second and that's how long it would last before the first cry of death swelled the air.
Brave Soldiers got braver. To them survival was a theme, not a word you carried around your neck like a talisman.
That second they had traveled back to their wives and children.
Knights strengthened their ground firmer. To them valor was a quest to their very being, not a badge on their chest.
That second they had traveled back to their King to whom they knelt in pride for eternity.
The children of Royal blood straighten their grim brows. They glanced across their legions casting a prayer for every single man they saw.
That second they had traveled back to their kingdom from where they saw the hails and the showers of fine hand picked petals from their people, which elated their blood to being Royal.
And so it has been. Until now
Men will never be the same. Greed, Pride, Prejudice and Vengeance has shadowed their Honor, Valor, Dedication, Truth… and worst of all Love – the Love for themselves.
As for me and how I know of this- I was once a man myself. Now only my tombstone claims the past on a land where men lay down with me but in a time where none are.
~The words on a Grave
::: Fear and Expectation are the root cause of all Pain which is the very curse of all those mortal and immortal. And those who don't fear but expect shall die unexpected and fearless :::
Pages from "The Chronicle"
I believe in the skies that open through when I wanted.
I believe in the winds that cut across my face the moment I wish them.
I believe in the waters that freeze its flow if I just thought.
I believe in the earth that will rise to a towering, complying with my summoning.
But Men, they are a lost belief. I washed my hands off that faction, the moment they stopped believing in love. In truth, it was their only source of power. A power so strong that would put any other to meaninglessness and thus, their greatest.
I clearly have seen it. There was this time when men held greater power than any other being that walked these planes. Any Battle that raged couldn't have unfolded such glory without them. Some they won, some they lost. But "somehow" by an uncanny course of events they always survived the greatest of disasters, multitude of Armageddon, Wars that have wiped out generations... what ever it was they always lived to tell the tale.
It was as though a Great Hand of Favor swept across all nations and across battlefields, whispering what could be the fate, which was in favor of its denizens. And why were they favored by their fate or the Hand was a question better unanswered for there was a charm it bore that gave Men a respect and a reason to live for.
The "Somehow" carried only one explanation: In all the many battles, I've fought side by side with men; I've always glared into the eyes of the soldiers just when the battle cries was about to echo a multiple times across the raging planes and as we were to wait still for the enemies to leash out their fury. Just then, at that very moment, their eyes were always transfixed to some place else. It had led them somewhere, far away from the battlefields, where they no more grip the swords and axes, a place where blood is only a meaning of bond and not something that is strewn all over. A sheer sense of intense human reality reeks that second and that's how long it would last before the first cry of death swelled the air.
Brave Soldiers got braver. To them survival was a theme, not a word you carried around your neck like a talisman.
That second they had traveled back to their wives and children.
Knights strengthened their ground firmer. To them valor was a quest to their very being, not a badge on their chest.
That second they had traveled back to their King to whom they knelt in pride for eternity.
The children of Royal blood straighten their grim brows. They glanced across their legions casting a prayer for every single man they saw.
That second they had traveled back to their kingdom from where they saw the hails and the showers of fine hand picked petals from their people, which elated their blood to being Royal.
And so it has been. Until now
Men will never be the same. Greed, Pride, Prejudice and Vengeance has shadowed their Honor, Valor, Dedication, Truth… and worst of all Love – the Love for themselves.
As for me and how I know of this- I was once a man myself. Now only my tombstone claims the past on a land where men lay down with me but in a time where none are.
~The words on a Grave
::: Fear and Expectation are the root cause of all Pain which is the very curse of all those mortal and immortal. And those who don't fear but expect shall die unexpected and fearless :::
posted by Third Eye Closed at
10:45 PM
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