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There are 144,000 persons living in an open land.  All are freemen and women.  They have everything they needed to survive until one day when almost all people needed something else to quench their thirst for immortality.  Not everyone wanted immortality where there is already peace and harmony in their common lifestyle.  Some opted to live a simple life while more people were tempted to search for more to suffice their bodily pleasures.  

  "Whose idea is this?" one asked.  

  Many people replied: "Nobody except of some animals that approached us."

  The same person asked another question: "How can animals talk to humans... in what language?"

  Nobody answered out of the many people of over one hundred thousand.  

  Many days passed and day by day a group of men and women started moving to a different place.  For a very long time where these common people have lived with serenity in the very same old place of peace and laughter, they are now being divided and scattered.  No one was able to explain if it's an ideology or a new belief why people started to view things around them differently.  People looked at each other in different ways unlike before.  More years passed and almost everybody's gone except for a family of eight.

  One day, this family discovered the place where almost everybody went... a secluded site  believed to be a paradise in the outside, but only hatred and sorrow in the inside.  People who immigrated to this new place can no longer return to their old blessed land which they once called "wasteland" -- land of their birth and good values.  

  Do you know where most people went?... a place immigrants called "Nede."  

  All six children-members of the only family left outside of the so called "Paradise of Nede" asked themselves if they can survive in the coming years.  Their parents answered: "Why worry when you don't live with guilt?"


  I only write, but never kill

  My blood runs deep, but temperature is still 


  So deep and caressing as the ocean moves

  Over sands and paper, always wet and proves

  Reminiscing your memories in me

  Reverberating your sweet thoughts of me

  Your heart that speaks... my pen that tweaks!


(Prosebite)
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