What Is Written

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We only have one moment, each of us. One moment before we have to end. To change the world? To make a difference? Nothing so diminutive. Only but a short-lived thrill before the fire engulfs us all. There are only a rare count of individuals born and grown tasked to continue the path to the end, and then they, themselves. A small sacrifice to make when you pave the timeline further on. It is not only our destiny, but a final release on mortality. Expect it to be interpreted perversely; and it will be. You cannot show much other than clemency and sympathy for those who cannot fathom such an act. It is not only about what is deserved, what pain is shared in common, rather, about what has to happen. It just has to be driven by the purest emptiness and misery inside. This is the only way we, as the prophecies, can fulfill what is meant to come. Each of our times are different. Acceptance exists in our soul; planted there so that we do not have to waste time pursuing it. We only suffer to be slaves so that more won’t have to.

Our time is proximal. So is theirs. Be done what you must have done. Do not pay worry to protecting your ethos, for there is no reason to. It will only be discredited by those that are not a part of us. Do not lose conviction whilst you are in wait. You are still next in line. Your importance to the completion of this time weighs maddeningly. Finish what is meant to be.

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