Space Shadows

Once in awhile as the moon revolved around, there was the shining of brilliance up the ground, it being hollow now, of the life that resode in and upon it. Beast of the field have spread there excrement upon green leaves in the spring, only to die an unhappy death. Blood left woven upon the fabric of "what was", now has entirely different symbolism for the mind, its disdainful view upon which it sees, this view being not without cause. As it where the numbness of it, its wretched remembrance ingrained upon us without remorse. The notice of discernment is rebuked for being so, and goes on its way down the path of one, only to find where it began. Leaving the soil unfettered is a venture of the future, for which there is no stopping, where will it find us as individuals, and as a collective? Does not one see what is truly real, or has the sap of deception molded the eye's shut? There once was solutions, but they have all been proven false, holding mere pebbles in the hand of the cravas. I feel as "Fabian" did, running from the "nothing" in which consumes everything, it having no pity for time itself. His horse feel prey to the "sand trap", will we? I speak my words to anyone, whomever you may be, the ones looking for a resonation in self. I have for most of my life not shared what I wrote, and always seemed to appear to be the quiet one, the one having nothing ever to say, this being made evident by others tone, mannerisms, actions,words,spirit, etc. I do not like to candy coat my words either, for what point is there in communicating unless what is "really" felt is communicated, this is one of the problems that exist today, people leave others feeling like it is all well with them when it is not. The hiders in the dark, that do not want to face themselves with the truth of themselves. The air is heavy with toxin, we breath it anyway, the rancid people and there rancid output never go away, they just multiply and consume. I wrote much about my thoughts specifically on the subject of the world situation, but then closed my browser, and any should wonder why I use paper and pencil. Honestly there is not much left in life to be excited about, and there is something coming in the night, for things pass, but the" powers that are" want to enslave us all, having all the control. Everyone seems to either not care, is ignorant of the facts, or love the idea. There are many other facets of believes that people have, but the truth of it all still eludes us. I want to slip away to the long forgotten place of our existence, as if everything will be just fine, and the mountains will not show there wrath as they will, but that is living in the fantasy, the ideal dream that has been thrown from the heavens with rebuke, only to find us in the shallow tomb. Apart from the fact that the ground has cried out, and that the dusk settles with tension, there are still signs of light bearing forth from the darkness. From the most distant parts of the universe it will come, to teach us who we are again, to fix the innate ability of ours to destroy, and corrupt. As the grains of time slip through the hole of emptiness into the infinity of nothing, then all will be gained, all will see the illusion melt from conscienceness in a brief moment, a suspended form of truth, set hanging between our foreheads with absoluteness and clarity. ' Im in search for happiness, sometimes, to blind to see. In all that search for happiness, sure means misery.'-"RRT5"