Aftermath High
The dust blew over the battlefield; grave of the three
sisters. Over for years! - a bygone era. Infinite grains of
the sands of time, you wept. Kicked up within them?
Numberless memories. Storied! - warlike! - past.
O tribunal of titans... Dread triumvirate of ferocity and
reshuffled power, little that could still be seen remained.
Changes were produced by struggle, back then. Now
sewn tight into the fabric of everyday life, governing was
their dynamic. The smallest sister, favored to win - ah!
How Fate kicks! Would that it were not true, her partisans
howled. Lost dreams! - how they slipped into the inkiness,
the backward-looming abyss! Groomed for the moment!
Her forces had been, and in formation deep and strong.
But! The pincer attack! Presented by the other two!
Nothing had been enough. Fluttering fame and fate!
The purple banners of the tallest sister had stood.
Aristocratically victorious, might's incantation. How
they had flickered at twilight! Let them escape! The
cold-voiced commanders had seemed to howl. Barred
banshees! - O ye reptiles of the rock, thine was the sun...
The petite sister's warriors had dreamed of
victory, and thus, they had not fled. A resistance had been
prepared. Against this the blue-collared craftsmen of the
salaried sister had been set, but in vain. Unsuccessful!
Stymieing the hopes of the majority? It never has
happened all the way. Battle ended. Bright visions of
a new tomorrow, dissipated. The eternity-trial was
over, for most of these. Guard of the elite! Set to attack?
The rest had been history. Remains left
for scavengers. Absent products of an opportune era.
Disappeared. Gossamer. Fireworks. A few vague
currents of unease softly shimmered. O society! Must
you forever deal with and endure? Memorable machine!
Proud monoliths! - entropy had struck. The river of
Providence! How it left its muddy mark upon the flanks of the three
sisters! Only so high... Lasting change? Dissonant discord.
Anarchy and chaos. The tallest sister's epoch? A decent job
done. Handling the offerings of causality? It can be said
they did. Better by far than expected, had that era been.
Populism had had a patrician's flavor, and events had
proved turbulent only to a point. In fact the regime had
practiced generosity. Yet the gifts it had given!
They were not wholly of lasting nature. Unrest had
nibbled around the edges, and darkness had everywhere
loomed. What the future holds now, none indeed can say.
Fear, be not with us. We beg of you...
Comments