Frantic Glory

As if the screams of those lost in war and tides was not enough that a new race of mindless achilles clones of the modern era cropped up in society. So mad, so crazy, so devoted, so lost in the pure lust for a carving in the tablets of history.  A walk into the way of a path beyond reason.

This search, this deep need and hunger to last long in memory…. is one that can never be satisfied.

We will still steadily climb on towards the peak of our fate, of our imagined glory, our imagined haven … to our immortality. But alas…. we will fall. It is in the destiny of all warriors, of all rulers … of all men, that there must be a rise and fall. Fall is inevitable. Glory is for those , who rise from this fall. Or for those who rise so high that the fall itself is majestic.

It is in the devious greed of this that we lose our way, our mind. We panic.. or we become so drunk in our own ambition that everything else seems insignificant. Man’s biggest weakness has always been and always will be Power. It will always consume man. Corrupt his mind. Corrupt his vision of the Glorius, the immortal. Afterall .. that is what glory translates to … an inscription in the tablets of time. And very few are engraved there with a story that is truly worth being proud of for the right reasons , rather then a story to be vary of with vices.

In the end, a frantic shell of a man comes out. One who seeks his glory , anyway possible. The devine , the ever-lasting , the immortal… all come through irrational chain of thought. Thus the glory being a frantic one.


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