21 - Angels & Demons

      The relentless hammering of machines has returned. The rock that I
have structured my architecture began to crumble.
      When I was younger I would sit quietly in my room and dream of this
dense creation and wonder if one day I would achieve it's resolve to
survive; it's ability to stand it's ground no matter what the circumstances.
As I grew older I started to notice how time had made almost as much of
an impression on the rock as it had made on me.
      The machines keep hammering. My eyes are burning and the blood is
running through my head like hungry lions swarming on the days first
kill. To cover my ears would do nothing but only further internalize the
pain and push everything even further away.
      I am watching the rock slowly turn to dust. The power that it once
held is now but a memory. The broken pieces still maintain the integrity
of the of the whole but there is something missing; the whole is so
much greater than the sum of it's parts and now the parts must learn to
survive with out it.
      The machines have clouded my vision with blood tears. It's too hard to
tell the angels from the demons so I will dance with both until I sleep
too long and the beast does not hesitate.
     Plans change.  It has begun.