I had this terrible dream yesterday night. A terrible storm rages over newyork, as the storm clears, I find myself on the bank of hudson, and something is missing.
Suddenly it dawns up on me, that the lady is missing.
Yes liberty was missing. I searched high and dry, to see if atleast I could find the floatsam, what a bloated ego I have...I was in this quest to rescue the bulwarks of freedom.
I couldnt even find it. As if the storm had dismantled her peice by peice and had hidden where no human could ever find it.
Disturbing dream. A subconscious allegory, for events I fear that are taking place.
A storm was created, three years ago on a bright september morning, hurricane clouds created on the debris of the towers of freedom, pushed down by the hands of the devil.
A frail, evil messiah had decided the only way to destroy earth is to bring up about hate in this world. A pandora's box so to speak.
Yet in this raging storm, the enemy seems not without but within. The desire to dismantle liberty on guise of safety. Bastardizing reason and throning fear on our bloodied temple. Making us bear the cross and the whiplashes for the sins of others.
Do not get me wrong, no one wants to show the other cheek, some beasts have to be stabbed till their death throes fade. Just because my heart is poisoned I cannot carve my heart out. There must be a better way.
Nurture my heart and yet kill the virus.
I hope my terrible dream never comes true. But in the dark of the blinding storm let us not lose the lady we cherish.
The evil that needs to hear us, should definitly hear from us. Yet at the same time, let not the rhetoric make us deaf ,to what is right and what is not.
People who hold bull horns and bellow out brave words, the could have been greats should no longer be our heroes, if they stand for fear mongering and hate.
Attempts at being decent whether real or feigned should not be ridiculed for being weak. Words might be nice to woo a lover, but not to fight a war. Saying we are right doesnt make one so. Doing the right thing makes you one.
Three septembers later america has a choice to vote from hearts and minds or to vote from a more primitive place, the adrenals, organs of fear and flight.
The beacon of freedom, the light that lady holds shall shine on. No one should be let to steal her.
@ 5:57 AM
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