I *Am* The Road Warrior

"Lots of things happening that can't be happening."

Those were the words of the Prophet Child. We beseeched her after the apocalypse of 2008 and such was her reply. In a camp in a meadow far from city lights, each of us walked away in silence, pondering the implications as the fire flickered on the child's sightless face. No one needs an explanation after a bomb has dropped: Dying Time has come.

Few are those who are conscious of the Prophet Child, only truth-seekers do know. But Truth-seekers come in many shapes, many forms, with many reasons. There are those like me, who need to know for that is the path to healing and hope. But others, Low Men in high places, also search out for the Prophet Child. For now, they search only in the conscious soul that connects us all. Low Men know she exists and that brings turmoil to their nights. One day, those masked men will send other masked men to find her and kill her.

But by then it will be too late - words of love will have been spoken that can never be unheard or claimed unknown ever again.

Like Strider of yore, Truth-seekers walk the streets with veiled awareness we live in the Aftertimes. And like the Hiroshima bomb, the dropping of it wasn't the end of the dying but the beginning. Death, slow and invisible, rotting from the inside out, as unstoppable as the earth's rotation. We see the comfortably dumb seeming they're safe in mortared homes and high rise fancies watching commercials of the damned. Truth is, they are but lambs for the wolves, not knowing they stay in caged pens ready for the slaughter. The easily bribed are always easily killed.

"Not having banned thoughts now, are we?"

"Only deceivers lead now, with words that can be sold."

They shall say they lie for the greater good, but lie they do. But only the liars shall the people raise up, weaving an impossible future from a nonexistent present. But as reality encroaches ever closer, the greater the deception needed. This is how doom comes through the door: with invitation and applause. Doom, masquerading as salvation, arrives on a wave of cheer that drowns the voice of reason. The chains of mutual fear makes freedom the enemy of the declared good. Protests for life come to naught.

Sorry, our economic model (which can never be questioned!)
does not allow for your survival. Next!

As the spirit goes, so must follow the world. On the streets is the front line of our wars waged within. I've seen the eyes of children stripped of hope, unseen casualties inconvenient to the tenets of Man. What price stubbornness? Criminals assume the law to make dastardly deeds safe from prosecution. Prosecutors pursue agents of justice. Men of violence championed as gods of false hope. True hope, they say, cannot be attained. But hope cannot be destroyed by the mere devices of Man.

"There is nothing wrong with our country"

Politics: the opiate of the masses

The outcast, the ones abandoned to the street, the scapegoated and forsworn will be the first to realize the dawning of the truth and the falsness of the world. For this, they will be scorned and persecuted. Those who bring ill to the world will blame the weak and the downtrodden as the source of that ill while praising themselves as saviors. But by the nature they have chosen - men who vainly declare the nature of Man to be vain - they will be destroyed, every last one, no exception possible.

"Safety comes only from inside."

In this post apocalyptic world we live in, those who seek their lives shall lose it. Give up your home, your family, your possessions. Stand for the truth and truth alone. Only the truth can lead us to the bedrock that lasts. The truth is known from cradle to grave whether spoken or not. Out on the road the battle is waged, beyond the clutches of grasping Man. Join me in the army of streetlight people, laying the foundations of the future. Without truth there can be no love and without love there can be no truth. This is the only possible future - because life itself is love.

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Where Are You Safe?

In your office
With your chief?
Who turns out to
Be a thief!

In your house
With mortgage dear?
A banker's leash
You wear in fear!

In your heart
Where feelings bleed?
A Sheriff's gun
Enforces greed!

In your world
Where food competes?
In the end
We'll live in streets!

I remember...