Red Pen

I had a dream, Mother Earth was wounded, Yearning, in Birth, Tears filling the Voids of the Cosmos like pools of Blood pleading it's case with it's own Acoustics. I saw Apocalyptic Horseman, Black Horses and White Horses, with Riders, Charging Full Speed in search for the Halls Of Destiny, they approach a Golden Bridge, it's glistening in a Brilliant Light, a Mystical Aura Illuminates The Way where Two Worlds Collide, the Darkness and the Light, the Physical and the Spiritual, Alas Prophecy awaits the Chosen Riders. Only the Select Few, Only The Chosen, Only the Righteous, Only those with the purest Hearts can advance through the Gate Of No Gate, therefore the future is for the VICTORIOUS! A Great Battle Ensued, In the far off distance Trumpets were Sounding Off, the Silent Battle for Mans Soul and Inevitable Destiny was no more. Mother Earth was Anxious and Trembling like screams of Labor, Full of Pain and Sorrow like she was Purging her Elements in a Desperate Plea for Fresh Air, because to Breathe is to Live. A Rider on a White Horse breaks free from the pack , takes a deep breath and with a leap of Faith and just the right touch of Madness and Crosses the Bridge, the Spirit Alive and Well, Charged with Electrical Fire, Fueled for Revolt, Sword In Hand, Passes Through the Threshold and arrives at The Sacred Valley Of The Sun. I dip my pen in the Heavy Soil, coated in Spilled Blood oozing from the Bosom of Mother Earth, and I Write....

" Destiny Awaits No Man,

Therefore, Fate is in your Hand"

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