A Horseman's News of Yonder
Tis the drumroll into the doom scroll, Sire.
The anticipation of having to sing for one's supper, post the most engaging fool's riddle that pleases the Court in the Castle of Algorithm. Thy factions battle with symbols and are sworn to their ancestors' hatreds while the sun riseths anew with plenitude for the hungry just beyond the walls of the freeway over yonder. In another life, my parents- who had seen the coming of the French Revolution - moved me to Spain for my safety. Where shall I take my family now, when there are only worlds of the mind, and the collective thoughts are infected by the virus of big lies repeated like replicated cells with a new strain each season? The only way to stop a game is to not play it, Sire. The young and creative ones know that. It is the youth of stilted imagination and toxic education whose bodies are hollow with rage. The hollow among them allow their shapes to be manipulated by the hands of puppeteers. While healthy and spirited young watch the so called elders circle 'round their battle plans. The lamb bleeps up the mountain to its kin to search for shelter and smell the rain. Life, it will go on. It is only death that dies. The only way to live is to relinquish the fascination with dying. The blindness of gentocracy: those inside it are playing by rules that won't sustain the young.
Their last gasp is scorched earth. Replicants of delusion, using governments to maintain their dying wish...to finally get to be the popular King or Queen if even through control and brutality . That they never could be popular when they were a snotty nosed spoiled brat is a vengeance taken out on the world. Power is temporary, my Lord. Sadly, we live too short a lifetime to warn the people, and too long a life to wait for these dangerous fools to rest.
The only thing I see that can be done is to survive the tragic mess this viral
travesty has brought about. There will be an end and I pray for my loved ones to treat days like gold in spite of clouds that block the sun, and let nights be enchanted, in defiance of the smoke that hides the stars.