Racing time - Imminent Death
Manifestation
The distant siren echoed from across the cavernous depths of the spirits of what used to lie before. The scathing marks of desperation, of deep struggles lay bare. Stones overturned, infrastructure of what it was called, all lay bare.
The streets lay a deathly scene. Real Estate lay in tatters. Whatever was left of the populous, scattered their way into the bosoms of mother Earth, away from her glare.
The spirit of man had been broken.
They had been lied and lied repeatedly. The truth about the ‘sickness’ was hidden. It was never deemed to be eradicated, not without fulfilling the objective of its appearance. The mystery of it all wasn’t dependent on a nation, nor upon a broken lover.
It was not a mystery at all.
Men were fed with stories of leak, hit and run, CIA, etc. They believed it all. In fact the stories were the ones that propelled for a moment, a resurrection of the world economy of sorts. It gained momentum for the people to gather strength and valour, to overcome. To become.
It was never the story.
The world lay bare. Its fate was decided.
A missile or the Nuke by precedence, was not enough. A plan was to be made.
The world had to burn without flames. The world had to end without consequences.
The siren finally died down. Its fading sound resonating the last breath of men that ruled the place.
The smallest of being had struck its blow. But its yet to begin its story.