News From The Front - The Only Story That Matters

"No wonder...no wonder..."

I had to see for myself, with my own eyes, no media filter intentional or unintentional. The curiosity has been driving me mad. And no wonder I cannot sleep at night. No wonder there's so much unborn rage writhing in me. No wonder my seething teeth ache in furious fretting. No wonder...

I can tell no one of what I saw. If we find out we're doomed already - and that suspicion grows every day despite the best efforts of protests and propaganda - the instantaneous backlash would be fatal to the messenger. He'd be crucified by the same outrage as deserved by the crucifiers to receive. And if this crime gains them one more second of delay from the hour of judgement they will commit said crime without hesitation of compunction.

Somewhere, somehow, something inside knows what we've done.

News from the Front is the worst imaginable - and that's no exaggeration. In fact, I don't think it's humanly possible to describe the carnage coming our way, inching closer in an inevitable march to touch and destroy each and every life. I've seen this with my own now-branded eyes, leaving me shattered and shaking,
    of the hearts we are breaking,
        of the souls we are taking,
            of the truths we are faking,
                of the terror we are making...

Prophets of doom are relegated to the wilderness, their voices a distant cry from impolite society. Since my return people ask what is wrong with me - they can see my consciousness has changed and they've begun viewing me with suspicion, that perhaps I know all is not well in their lives and I will cause revelation. But revelation is coming regardless, with or without me, just as the sun rises in the morn with or without me.

I've witnessed atrocities no eye should be summoned see. Just to fake it through the day I must remain speechless and vilely cheerful as an abused child. Only in the most private of moments do I redeem myself. In those sly moments I know...I know all that we do now on this path is in vain.

How do I say what I saw to a proud new mother holding her newborn baby? How can I fully describe the seeds we have sown when I myself am too afraid to face them? I've noticed that when I speak truly, they only look at me not the words I say. My clothing is my fate. If I speak of the coming doom when well dressed I am lynched in unleashed lust. If I speak in vagabond tatters I'm ignored and unheard. I must sleep with the homeless and the outcast to stay alive with a speaking mind - as did Baptist John of old.

My life is a posed pantomime. I've no cares about making plans or daring dreams. Too much of the future is written. Maybe there are some who are strong enough to survive the soul-crushing tsunami on its way but I feared love more than losing. Watch me be thrilled with the bribed success lauded by the masses! I'll boldly lie of mountains to climb and of drinking from the fountain of forever! That is what's expected by the pack wolves who rule in savage infamy.

Where is safety? When I close my eyes the fires from the Front consume me, raging me aware. I wake up suicide screaming still hearing the civilian generals' insane calls for more murder and more mayhem, never enough to feed the frustration of aborted family. Through the dark, fast-moving haze I witnessed soldiers staggering forward, defeated with arms outstretched, begging for the war to stop, only to be killed in grinning glee as those without hope take life from those who breathe in the most stupid of acts.

The scale of it - were it described accurately - is horror few can believe. We must unite, not fight, if we are to survive. Oh, the putrid proposals I have heard spill from the beast's mouth only to be repeated by mindless masses who wreak craven salvation by the gods of falseness. But the Wind that drives the fires toward us cannot be stopped by clever words or counseled deceit. For the Wind is God. This is why under no circumstance can we brook flames under the heavens.

The joy of the ignorant is all that remains. I smile in failure with the surrounding souls when I hear it praised but my sorrow is restless like a rising volcano. I want to come clean and declare the madness before me! War rewards the monsters among us. I wish only to slip quietly in the night out of this world, never to be seen or heard again. The truth can die with me. From the far reaches of the universe I wait for the willfully unknown, painted by my hopes and fears. But no one even knows I'm here.

In the simmering silence, a message breaks through: "Uncle Harry take me to the water park plz! Hurry lets have fun b4 its to late! Time is running out!"

Jesus left the temple and was walking away when his disciples came up to him to call his attention to its buildings.“Do you see all these things?” he asked. “Truly I tell you, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.”

As Jesus was sitting on the Mount of Olives, the disciples came to him privately. “Tell us,” they said, “when will this happen, and what will be the sign of your coming and of the end of the age?”

Jesus answered:

“Watch out that no one deceives you. For many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am the Messiah,’ and will deceive many. You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. All these are the beginning of birth pains.

“Then you will be handed over to be persecuted and put to death, and you will be hated by all nations because of me. At that time many will turn away from the faith and will betray and hate each other, and many false prophets will appear and deceive many people. Because of the increase of wickedness, the love of most will grow cold, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved. And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.

“So when you see standing in the holy place ‘the abomination that causes desolation,’ spoken of through the prophet Daniel—let the reader understand— then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. Let no one on the housetop go down to take anything out of the house. Let no one in the field go back to get their cloak. How dreadful it will be in those days for pregnant women and nursing mothers! Pray that your flight will not take place in winter or on the Sabbath. For then there will be great distress, unequaled from the beginning of the world until now—and never to be equaled again."