"The savages/slaves huddled together, as each selfishly fought for a replacement limb and/or organ. These had been the casualties of a very severe warfare, foundational, physical, psychological and emotional. Though they had warred with ferocious fakery, unrelenting deception and violations spurred by vehemence. The outcome for them, was still and would always be severely debilitating and defeating...." Culled and Modified, from "A Star Is Born (The KING's Move)" By Chioma Onwudiwe 10/20/14
They carried that thing, as if their life, depended it. And at that very moment, it probably did. For if by some unforeseen and missed step, the structure were to have tipped at any given direction. Heads would have literally rolled and bodies smashed, to an unidentifiable and bloody pile. But sympathy would be lost on these lots. For that was the gruesome scene, that they were accustomed to. They cut, they wounded, they twisted, they inverted, they gored and they killed. They often wasted life, as if theirs were indestructible.
The undisputable and timeless version of The Glorious and Spotless Lamb, sacrificed for all. Had been twisted and turned, into an endless stream of heartless and soulless activities. For their master often demanded, a depraved version of reality. Now they were constantly occupied, with endless sacrifice and inhumane indulgences.
Most of their victims were innocent. And even for the guilty and self sabotaging, the blood bath was endless. That was without a doubt, a depraved and shameful mode of function. If a substance/situation wasn't twisted, turned, tainted, inverted, down-side up and up-side down. If it couldn't be demonized eventually, it was deemed useless. In their very reprobate abyss of existence. Good, original, authentic and foundational, were problematic.
Maybe it was some cultivated instructions, or perhaps a rules/playbook. Or as always, a plagiarized and pilloried version, of the 'Book Of Life and TRUTH'. Either way, there was always a plan and a purpose, to their performance. After all, they were all actors, in every sphere possible. They governed with lies and corruption with an intent to enslave. They investigated emptiness, to distract from cesspools of crime. And then would claim to have a solution, for problems specifically designed by them. And as the blanket of deception, threatened to envelop the sky. They offered putrid, invasive and converting entertainment, to distract.
So up they matched, to the defining and deciding stage. In successive files, supposed ranks and senseless accomplishments. The ones carrying the structure, were gutted, soulless and without definitive identification. Others held up signs with symbols, of permeate resolutions. Intricate and subtle plots, injected into societal fabrics. Behind them were puppets, who believed themselves to be power players and value movers. Small players who greased the various mediums of communications. With fake oil, that stunk, stung and repulsed. Then came the human implants and sleepers. They were often questionable 'experts', versed with Religion, medicine and education, to name a few.
They had been summoned, by The Other Side. A mandate to a showdown, a show out and the ultimate power move, on the largest stage yet. Let the Greater conquer, as it were. And The Other side....?
It was the side they robbed, imitated, copied, slighted, blighted, incriminated, followed, monitored and always with a sickening TWIST. To be fair, they were just accomplishing their master's wish and delivering his desire. They swore he was the reason they lived, moved, had their being and possessions. Therefore, they had to cart him to the showdown..... And so far, considering the obvious encumbrance of carriage. He may have been asleep. It was either that, or he knew better than to show up. He knew better.
The structure was heavy! Every time the bearers encountered a bump, a multitude of them fell down and out. The masterminds and sponsors of everything current, followed circumspectly behind. They were deeply cautious and conscious of the visibility. They would have preferred habitual anonymity, but their master had been summoned. So who were they, to stay back? Now as this current and cool crowd, were fast approaching ground zero. Rumors started rippling, through the files of people.
It appeared that the horns on the structure, had poked out many eyes (most would have to manage, just one eye). And also ruptured ear drums, along the way. The tongues of the hapless sojourners, just might have been endangered also. But perhaps their vow to be silent, had helped. Or perhaps not.
The often veiled and hidden instructors/planners, were now in unfamiliar territory. They were now obvious and seen. If their hands weren't hidden in their bosom. They would have had to wipe the huge droplets of panic induced sweat, from their crumpled brows.
The peasants in the pyramid, barely made it to the top of the stage. Before the structure began to tremble and sway violently. They staggered to and from, while attempting to maneuver a fall prevention. Then they tried to prop it upwards. With hopes of depicting, the conducive position for an object of worship. But to no avail. The statue subsequently fell face forward, breaking one of its horns. The burden bearers, would rush to it in horror and thickening fear.
Meanwhile, the three imitations of human organs, in the front of the statue. Dug defiantly into the ground and stuck there. Refusing to be extracted. As the exasperated and ebbing carriers, struggled to lift it up again. The second horn fell out. What terror! The damages were now irreparable. The confusion and chaos was insurmountable. The dread was oppressive and palpable....
Meanwhile, in the distance, The LION roared. The goat scampered and then sped away, at record speed. Leaving behind, an exasperated and exposed 'following'. And The Other Side? One messenger, for the Majestic Summoner. Lifted up their hands towards the heavens and almost immediately, fire fell down....
Epilogue: A wise woman once asked. Does a goat butt his head at The Lion?
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