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From Statues to Sentinels

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  From Statues to Sentinels Narration You know, I never thought I’d find myself in the heart of this mega-city. One night, wandering through a hidden park, I discovered statues that seemed to be alive. Among the sculptures is Sir Cedric, a knight whose marble exterior shines like steel. He believed he was the protector of this marvellous city.  The protector of threats long gone and those yet to arrive. I had the moral purpose of showing him what the world had become; somehow, he showed me the courage to dispute it. Together, we faced a rogue state that threatened to tear our freedom apart. At that moment, I realized that history and the future combine to restrict our ambitions. Sometimes, enemies come in the most unexpected forms. With each challenge we forge ahead, there’s always room for opportunity, especially amidst chaos. And with a new opportunity, a new leader assumes dominion. Nu Jazz https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCrxQKZRnAka3dliF7lp1-Ow Description In the heart of a mega c
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GODin Pot

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GODin Pot
In our time of relative peace, there are those who will forthrightly blame others to gain ascension.
They seek revenge through blinded principles.
But it is foolish for our society to gain prosperity from grounds of wrong.
To gain via perceive threats is untenable.
Centuries of thought have passed and still our want to employ hate lingers.
That is, to stop others and to gain our wants through forced misfortune.
And as our inflictions grow in number so does our determination.
Us theirs and ours cannot be decisively contained.
The more our empowered profiles gain clarity the less our perceived enemy is defined.
Until our enemy has no humanity that we can describe.
Until only shouts of evil and defiance describe only our state of understanding.
Within this scenario of threat, our real purpose is deliberately camouflaged.
And us we and they can no-longer see and or remember what was.
This is how our leading few maintains normalization.
Scratch this delusion and you will see that it is ourselves who are actually broken.
Our way of life is the tragedy of which we will not openly speak.
Our cost of understanding is misfortune.
Our consumption of self-hate is profitable.
We hate them for solace.





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