The Temple Floor
They all kneel down on the temple floor praying to Allah for more; thousands of them dressed in long gown beating on the ground and their long beard soaked with sweat dripping on the mat while they took courage and give it all that they have got.
Sinful men whose voices are buried in the deep crying to Allah for help, men whose conscience stir beyond time weeping bitterly to the divine.
The earth has borne the wound of those hasty days when men prayers go up in flame and the cross of withered hope stares steadfast in the sky and they clench their fists as anxiety bend their back and they seek for an answer but they are too slow to rise to the occasion.
They were instructed to move further to the east, their heart was not there and they had too much fear. The glimmer of hope that once drives them into the street has sunk below their feet, and the sun has burnt the laughter out of their gums.
Their head and their bodies prostrate on the floor that is decorated in fine lines from medieval times, medieval gods and the dynasty of love. The fifth century AD401 the inscription tells you about many things that transpire on the land.
It was the period of migration and political instability throughout Eurasia and the collapse of Western Roman civilization but in China the sixteen Kingdom continued but the small sub- kingdom collapsed,.
It tells you about the fifteen century how the Renaissance, and the early modern period changed your ancestors and spread glitters of courage into mankind eyes and the distance they could not reach still lingers on and the journey that they could not complete keep pushing them along and everything you need to know is on the floor next to the door.
There is a center path that leads you in to the dark if you remove the circular cover, it will lead you into the gutter and you will find the snipe.
Mankind of all ambition prostrate on temple floor beating their head and murmuring about the clutter and so the man in the cloud with the beard appears in public after many long years not with message of hope but one laced with Martyrdom that bind them to their faith they vow to rise to the cause and expand the mission that is at large.
They weep on the temple floor and brave men defect through the door their hours have finally come when they have to pick up their arms and run. Examine the inscriptions on the temple floor. You need nothing more.
Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2023
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