The War In Heaven

Men and women. We are two races, put down here, to radically embrace our differences. We are 'the war in heaven'. We came down. We like to believe, we are human, but do we act human? We are alien. Alien to love, to life to warmth, to reason.

We know none of these things, We yearn to know, but we know not. We desire, desire all these things, but cannot have them...and we lie, every day, hour second...we lie, about everything. There isn't a truthful crust or crumb in us.

We are 'the ones' that loveth and maketh a lie! Over time, we have grown, from simple to complex organism's bearing fruit of character, of drama, of pride. Men are angry. Women are vengeful. Men are direct. Women are never direct, but circle you.

Men follow dogs. Women follow wolves. Men mark suns and solstices. Women, blood...howling necromancy's ,darkness always...no matter what they say. Some say women and men, are the halves of one another. That could be.

Some say, that we evolve, and over time...perhaps, a little, maybe. Soon, we will attempt that final confrontation, the battle of Apocalyptus. The lies have been spread, the ground prepared for the cup of darkness. When it's done, men will have lost their anger, women, their lunar towers of cold calculation.

All that will be left, are tits hanging from trees, and dick's crawling in the mud seeking their ass, a world torn to pieces...and we say we love? We slaughter dogs and sheep and cows, and birds, and every kind of life but ours, and ours...and say we love?

We love nothing but ourselves! That's our institution. So, we may say we love, but war is all we know, we practice 'daily subterfuge', a lying likeness to 'care', while underneath...we know, it's all a cheap veneer, a trivialized fasade, a drug to buy us off 'the death', we are.

God forgive us, but I don't know why.

Adieu.


Written by Bruce James Clyde, at Deming, New Mexico