in the cataclysm, of silence



all that remains,  of a once grand and glorious Because,  now lies hidden in the dust and detritus of a thousand kingdoms and empires come and gone,  buried deep in the wells of our wishes and wistful sighs of what might have been,  the scattered shards of our dreams and desires strewn heedlessly beneath the timeless advance of ideals and ideologies long forgotten,  and those not deserving of remembrance . . . we have built monuments and monoliths to honor that which holds no honor beyond the fleeting adoration of the moment,  while holding hostage the very futures of our children,  in exchange for the paltry ransoms of our immediate gratification . . . we have edificed soaring and gilt-splendored temples to our gods,  that rest upon a billion bones of the unredeemed and unworthy,  as we kneel before the machinery of our faith,  that we might find salvation in the very promise of our ingenuity,  while compassion,  love,  and kindness slowly fade from the pages of our story,  because tomorrow bears no witness,  in the mirror,  of our once upon a time . . .




from ZanaDew Falls,  Seen VIII:  The Time before Until




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