16.

The insistence of work has cast it’s shadow over our thinking, leaving us undecided at to whether committing to it is real or required, or otherwise. A mighty man has fallen, and thinking of him is both a necessity and a crime. From the ashes, a newborn infant will rise. An heir presumptive, whose dust covered face is as battle scarred as a chortling being can be. If we say we want to suffer more, you will sin, so let’s just lift up our hands, conceding to the necessary fall of the sleeves, and declare, I have killed you for doing nothing, for it was either me or you, and the only way you could escape being a criminal is severe docility when words of grenades and daggers scathed you repeatedly for years. In the end, it is better being honorable, even if millions get killed, than to be dishonorable or take the life of another human being with your own hand. If you play your cards right, you will be a vizier in the afterlife, otherwise, the violence of a statue will once again harm you. Others have fallen before you, and more will fall after you, as we set our fiery black gaze on the nearest star to our sun for the next thousand years.