I shall be victorious if there was to be battle. Not because of any personal strength, but because of my insistence to be away from any participation. When you participate, you commit, you open flanks ! That is where all the truth shall prevail. For that is not written for you, enacted for you, deliberated for you. That is that traveller in the lost deserts of the wild and vicious Sahara - without food, shelter, water or shade and no oasis ...
Accolades come and go. That is their nature. But accusations persist once they begin. Accusations have a life larger and better groomed than accolades. Accusations are flowery in word and at times in deed, if correct. They bring the varied colors of the ill will and unsubstantiated falsehood. They have the ability to be meatier and perhaps of better taste. They live longer, add tributaries to themselves without asking. They seemingly flow with the rush of the stream that claims to be of some distinct purity. They shine and shower themselves with the cleanliness of time.
Truth, if ever spoken or deposited, would be uneventful. Tasteless and morose, without any reflective glory of showmanship. It would be it and that is it ! Dull quiet and almost soundless ! The cacophony of the untruth is so wild and full of decibels that these gentle little tinkles of the bell will hardly ever be heard. Which is why truth sits silent. Almost in despair, but most valid and secure in appearance.
even in the hours of the dark ...
forever !!
Accolades come and go. That is their nature. But accusations persist once they begin. Accusations have a life larger and better groomed than accolades. Accusations are flowery in word and at times in deed, if correct. They bring the varied colors of the ill will and unsubstantiated falsehood. They have the ability to be meatier and perhaps of better taste. They live longer, add tributaries to themselves without asking. They seemingly flow with the rush of the stream that claims to be of some distinct purity. They shine and shower themselves with the cleanliness of time.
Truth, if ever spoken or deposited, would be uneventful. Tasteless and morose, without any reflective glory of showmanship. It would be it and that is it ! Dull quiet and almost soundless ! The cacophony of the untruth is so wild and full of decibels that these gentle little tinkles of the bell will hardly ever be heard. Which is why truth sits silent. Almost in despair, but most valid and secure in appearance.
even in the hours of the dark ...
forever !!
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