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From the End of All Things
Does anyone understand the pain anymore; does anyone even catch a glance of it?
The heavy weight that our pasts have burdened our beaten shoulders with is almost heart-breaking. They said they were the generation of change, one of evolution, one which grew from the work of our hard-earned bond with nature. Therefore who could ever have anticipated the fall of our once powerful Empire? The fall of all in which I especially held dear, dragged down by such rash hatred and venom. My race fought and died trying to contain the plague, to put a stop to the poisoning of our green earth. But they wanted too much, this new breed. They were no more content with the lives the earth had given them than an infant is content to amuse itself alone. They threw their dolls from their cradle and spread out over the world; not even the remotest corner was safe from their ugly touch as they polluted its purity and tore all splendour apart with endless greed.
And as the world died, so did my race.
We began to slowly diminish into shadow with our numbers forever decreasing, our lives forever becoming more and more secreted until they were never really lives at all. From our darkness the Organisation took control, growing into the power vacuum created and wielding the power of influence they resolved to rediscover our lost strength to but solidify control over all. But by the time they had fixed upon this aim we had all but been wiped out, removed from all time and history to be nothing but ghosts and phantoms haunting the bed-time stories of children.
All who remained were remnants of my clan and one other, all three score and ten of us, who have since been brutalised and moulded into stencils for the Organisation’s new army -Their master soldiers designed to control and suffocate and destroy.
What hope is left for those of us of the old order, left to wander amongst the wreckage of the human decay?
The heavy weight that our pasts have burdened our beaten shoulders with is almost heart-breaking. They said they were the generation of change, one of evolution, one which grew from the work of our hard-earned bond with nature. Therefore who could ever have anticipated the fall of our once powerful Empire? The fall of all in which I especially held dear, dragged down by such rash hatred and venom. My race fought and died trying to contain the plague, to put a stop to the poisoning of our green earth. But they wanted too much, this new breed. They were no more content with the lives the earth had given them than an infant is content to amuse itself alone. They threw their dolls from their cradle and spread out over the world; not even the remotest corner was safe from their ugly touch as they polluted its purity and tore all splendour apart with endless greed.
And as the world died, so did my race.
We began to slowly diminish into shadow with our numbers forever decreasing, our lives forever becoming more and more secreted until they were never really lives at all. From our darkness the Organisation took control, growing into the power vacuum created and wielding the power of influence they resolved to rediscover our lost strength to but solidify control over all. But by the time they had fixed upon this aim we had all but been wiped out, removed from all time and history to be nothing but ghosts and phantoms haunting the bed-time stories of children.
All who remained were remnants of my clan and one other, all three score and ten of us, who have since been brutalised and moulded into stencils for the Organisation’s new army -Their master soldiers designed to control and suffocate and destroy.
What hope is left for those of us of the old order, left to wander amongst the wreckage of the human decay?
Published 3rd Feb 2013
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