Speechlessness and more than a Bit of Rambling

And he found himself amongst them a unique specimen. His only recourse was distinction and to this they attached a sentence of death. But he could not sit and be silent for his voice was the only thing he had.

No matter that the mountains beyond were a pale purple. They did little to mask his silent bruises. The sun shown gently upon his face but a shadow played across his mind. His thoughts echoed the clouds above.

He had left the cave of his birth far behind and had hoped he would learn. The world would be his womb and through its embrace he would find life.

But the world’s inhabitants were content to crawl on their bellies to mingle and devour one another. He sat in their refuse and contemplated death. If just to start anew and wash clean his soul of his mistake.

The rain washed these thoughts from him as he took again his walking stick. He shoved it before him and those that chose not to run were struck down. His wake was filled with the pondering. Their helpless mewing an unpleasant background noise to the world.

The path of salvation isn’t lined with the fears of the Heavens. Stagnation is not the greatest escape. These things were to him like intuition and their truth beyond doubt.

He sighed with the singing of the birds and found beautiful vengeance in their flight. They defied by nature what some thought to be Law. And yet, there is truth to such foolish propositions. However misleading they may be.

The wind covered his path. Only his actions tugged at the Web of things. Some, like flies, got entangled. Their innocence became like blood drained from their veins. Their souls soared intermingling with possibilities that the Web foretold but Teachings ensorcelled.

The man knew that no knowledge was everlasting. The wisdom of youth regained understood this but was lost to the concreteness of growing up, of growing responsible. The world ceased to spin in the lack of the wanderlust. As if the lizards had cut off their own legs.

The bruises on his chest spoke of all these things. But in Wisdom there is speechlessness and more than a bit of rambling.

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