Stuff The Second Coming.

Note: August '98: The 2nd Stuff file of my Opinionations upon this world, read and dont close yer mind or else ye are damned upon my words for it is the darkness of closing that does not let the light of opening in.

Enter Upon yer Own Risk, This is my world, My Words, My Freedom, learn or not learn that is yer choice, my goal is almost done if ye have cometh this far.

Ruminations upon a Tortured Soul:

My world, sayeth the traveler, yet not my world, not of my doings, a world wrapped into an aspect older than I, A time to die, A time to live, A life that goes on and on and on,

Never Ending...

Yet it goes on, once more into the uncertainty, as I go with it, leaving who I was behind and becoming. evolving into who I will be, older than many, younger than most, letting time and truth carry me on.

...... teaser upon my work The Traveler, which is still currently not finished, I'm looking at many more parts to finish it. a part is posted in my collections somewhere, ye'll just have to look for it.

Backtracking a bit:

July 2nd'98,

Note: According to T. Talone this work is:

" it is kind of a pondering pessimistic mood with a somewhat optimistic mood swing questioning kinda vibe."

here it is:

Some People are Predators
and others are Prey,
yet others are the gatherers,
and some the reapers,
while still a portion are the leaders,
and all the rest are the followers.

And than there are the Nomads,
the followers of the seasons
and the land, The ever moving land,
yet they wander over it changings surface.

and than there are the loners,
those that prefer the stretches of emptiness,
the nothing that is filled with life and truths,
and for them holds to key to everything and anything.

And for the rest, that which we call Society,
it is ever changing, never changing kaleidescope of events.
moving outwards and inwards with a warring of lying truths,
and contains the destructive nature of having that more than one
person contained in it.

And There are the Outcasts, those of us who do not fit,
that is do not fit any conventional sense by any group,
Those of us that are not a traditional part of the rest,
and those of us that hold the unseen power to change it all.

And than there are the Destroyers,
those of us who can not stop burning or killing,
Those few of us who succumb to the fallen side of us.
And it is this few that will be the downfall of us all.

And for the Meek it shall be the inheritance of the earth,
and if that is true than they shall be the inheritors of destruction,
for if the meek do not rise nor lend a hand than the earth,
the earth they shall inherit shall be the one of desolate waste.

And for the rest of those, those that follow.
What shall become of ye, those of ye without anyone to lead?
How shall ye survive this desolation without the guidance of others,
of those that lead, or shall the followers step into the place of the
leaders?

And What of those that Survive?
Will they become the builders of another age?
or just the dying hope of a forgotten age?
or yet will they be those that cannot forget nor forgive and be mistaken
again?

And yet what shall happen if there is No One left?
Shall live start over than with a clean slate?
or shall those that will come after build over everything?
letting the mistakes and evil of before become the groundwork for a
later glory?