The Mourner

I mourn the worst sorrows. The shifty deception of gullible children and senile elders. The blindness to reality injected into many unlucky fetuses, the worlds of wonder they are born into, smiling and ready to accept these evil lies. Like the wise men and women they were, they rejected their own teachings and trampled upon the covenants of their fathers, replacing them with the tyrannical anarchy of natural man, forever a beacon in the vacuum, a warning to those who dare dance at the edge of the forest, and dip their feet in the water of unclouded streams.