My song has not yet been sung for it has yet to be written.
There is work to do and lives to avenge before I am allowed to move on. Too young to fight, but not to young to forget, and not yet mature enough to forgive. Until such time I shall linger here waiting for a chance to join my family in the hereafter.
The war is far from over, externally we capitulate, internally the struggle goes on, down deep, in the bowels of our world. We learn to silently rebel, physically we cannot ever win. But we perform like a virus, a bacterial bug that infest from within, slowly rotting away the flesh of deceit.
Much like they did.
The best part is they are unaware of what we do, as we nibble on our host while they blindly believe we are the nourishment that sustains them. A whisper here, a suggestion there, always their idea, never ours.
Or so they think.
We wave their flag while fanning the flames of turmoil. Everyday they crumble, slowly, but surely. When they implode, which they most certainly will, we shall wash away every memory of their existence from our lives. Their false pride and foolish following of fools will finally be finished. They will be left wandering about as if waking from a nightmare, stumbling around without sight for they failed to see for themselves the truth that was always in front of their faces. Forced to suddenly live from the surreal to reality.
We will re-create our history, reinvent our lives, rebuild what was torn down.
Once they fall, do we pick them up, dust them off and embrace them as the friends they once were? Will we become petty and prideful unwilling to forgive and forget?
Until we find an answer to this question our song will never be heard, never sung, for it will not have been written.
This is why I weep.
Thank you,
Jason
Please do not read to much into this, it is no more than a reflective moment on a rainy Saturday morning. A rambling blend of words woven together creating a tapestry of thoughts in my head upon waking.
About the Creator
JBaz
I have enjoyed writing for most of my life, never professionally.
I wish to now share my stories with others, lets see where it goes.
Born and raised on the Canadian Prairies, I currently reside on the West Coast. I call both places home.
Getting Serious About Comedy (Part I)
If I were asked to remark on my life and the childhood that paved some road leading me to this point, I would have to say something about all the funny people who surrounded me for the last 26,872 days (and counting). Somewhere along that road, I became a big fan of laughter and the comedy that spawns it – and, I mean not only my own laughter, but the laughter of others, some of which I have actually been responsible for inducing.
By John Oliver Smith3 days ago in Humor
Comments (20)
Well-wrought, Jason! Here I see something we share, as I have said elsewhere: a love of the transformative power of decay, the overcoming of all fear of beyond, knowing the moment is everlasting. Love accepts what Will changes so long as Will is true. I also see here something of an answer (there is no one answer!) to my second philosophical question: Who saves the sacrifice? It's right there toward the end. Again, well-wrought!
But we perform like a virus, a bacterial bug that infest from within, slowly rotting away the flesh of deceit....... What a phenomenal line.
Yay Jason!! Congrats on honourable mention this week!
Wooohooooo congratulations on your Leaderboard placement! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
I see the deep Message in this piece. Excellent work, good luck to the Challenge.
“false pride and foolish following of fools will finally be finished” this is such a satisfying string of words!
This really resonates Jason, such a thought-provoking piece!
A lovely bit of writing even no metaphors explicitly reference any topics of current concern, Jason. Course even when we make no effort to write anything of particular note, you never know what our ungovernable psyche might metaphorically underline for reflection at some future date when our eyes suddenly notice it.
Like Lamar I thought this was headed in the shockwave direction and it had a very epic narrative voice feel to it! Very beautifully and powerfully written! Wanted it to keep going!
This reminds me almost of a religious vers or one of my thoughtpieces, overall tranquil but giving us lots to ponder.
Oh wow, this made me think of Covid. Who knows, maybe it was taking revenge. Loved your story!
To sing that which is yet to be writ... A popular metaphor for God's grace & forgiveness in the church is that God throws all our sins into a sea of forgetfulness & posts a No Fishing sign on the shore. That doesn't work so well for me. I want both God & me (& others who will hold me accountable) to remember so that I might do better. If we forget the past, we are indeed doomed to repeat it. I dream of a time when the past is not forgotten & the song might be sung together. In other words, preach it, J!
Wow, Jason! Any downtrodden group could pick this story up as a call to retribution. Excellently written.
Beautifully done Jason!
This was pensive and well-written, Jason, I thought it was for a challenge.
This read almost like a trailer to a movie, Jason. <3
At first I thought it was an entry for the shockwave challenge because they have a 2 min read time. But then I saw the subtitle. The opening paragraph set the stage for some really deep thoughts. -not yet mature enough to forgive- Nice!!! Rainy mornings can do this to a writer.
Jason, this was sooooo good! That beginning line, I had to re-read it like four times because it seriously gave me chills! Loved this, well done!!
Awe every one needs a song..mine is I should have known better by Jim Diamond
I love “we perform like a virus, a bacterial bug that infest from within, slowly rotting away the flesh of deceit.” That could be a movie trailer line! This could be a story about political propaganda infecting peoples brains like a virus? Possibly. But I could be reading to much into it! Great story! Love your work!