Eros is dead. Mars reigns. Sometimes.

This is not an original Edenia post. This is just a re-posting of an original poem written by a friend of mine that i've found worthy enough to re-post here (not many of those around).
Anyway, here goes:

Inexorable

The injustice of one man

Done openly, plain

For all to see.

The lack of conscience

The absence of shame.

Complicated

The feeling of hatred.

Irrationally set

Against imaginary enemies

In a place where logic flees.

Emotions run wild,

Fluctuate.

Where once was tolerance

Now negation of love.

Will we ever understand

How hatred can consume a man?

-may yap-

Hope you don't mind, May. But it IS a good poem. =)

Endings

"Look into his eyes," was the cold whisper. "See the fear."

"No!" the man chained to the wall cried. "No! Not him! He's just a boy!"

"He's not just a boy," was the mocking reply. "He's your boy."

"Don't! I'll do anything, anything! Just let him go!" The man in chains was desperate.

"Too late."

The sound of steel piercing soft flesh ripped through the dungeon. Then a gurgle, and the thud of a body falling limp to the ground.

"NO!" the man wailed, then collapsed against his chains, sobbing. "Curse you! Curse you to hell!" His tormentor only smiled mockingly. "Why me? Why us?" the man sobbed out.

His tormentor kneeled before him, then pulled off the hood he was wearing.
The man gasped and recoiled in shock.

"You know why, father." The grin on the executioner's face was evil as he raised his dagger.

The boy on the ground sat up, grinned, and wiped the fake blood from his face.

The dagger glinted as it came down.

And the curtains closed.

* * *

The crowd was still in shock as it exited the building into the moonlight.

"That was the worst ending I've ever seen," Wytcliffe complained. His companion, Rihan, frowned.

" Enigmatic, certainly. But why the worst?"

"Because it's inconclusive. You've no idea what happened in the end."

"Why do you say so? There were plenty of clues in the play about what happened in the end."

"Yes, but the clues pointed to five different endings! Five! Again, inconclusive!"

"But I think that's the point. We're supposed to decide for ourselves what the ending is."

"But that's so.... unsatisfying! There must be a pointer towards one of the endings that we overlooked."

"You think so? Well, let's run through it again, then. The play opened with the scene of Zelhar's birth. It was obviously a happy scene. Tara and Rolan were proud parents. Then they showed Tara's death, which Rolan blamed on Zelhar."

"Wait, remember the confrontation just before that? Between Tara and Rolan? It sort of implied that Rolan was cheating on Tara."

"Yeah, so maybe Rolan blamed both Zelhar and himself for Tara's suicide."

"And Zelhar blamed Rolan and hated him."

"Maybe, but anyway Rolan couldn't stand to live with Zelhar anymore, and exiled him."

"Remember the scene of Zelhar with the portrait of his father? Obviously he wanted revenge."

"But the conversation between Zelhar and the stranger implied that Zelhar understood and forgave his father."

"Possibly. But I still think Zelhar wanted revenge."

"Ah, we'll never know for sure. Anyway, Rolan married the other woman, Selia. Their marriage scene implied that Selia was his former mistress."

"Yeah, and also that Selia's son was his bastard child."

"Who loved him. Remember that scene of the Festival of Dreams?"

"Yes, but maybe that love was superficial. Remember the farmhouse scene?"

"I think that scene just showed that Caith didn't like Rolan's dominating personality."

"Or maybe it showed that Caith hated Rolan for taking away his mother's love and relagating him to a bastard's standing?"

"Could be. But anyway Selia's murder proved that something was amiss."

"How can you be so certain that Selia was murdered? Selia's conversation with Caith before that seemed to show that they knew what was coming."

"True. But did you notice that Rolan wasn't too aggrieved about Selia's death? Maybe Rolan murdered her himself."

"That's stretching it a bit."

"Maybe you're supposed to. But anyway Zelhar had a part in it."

"True. But what I don't understand is how he suddenly reappeared after it seemed so certain that he was killed. Rolan positively identified the body."

"Maybe Rolan was lying. Also, remember back early on, the comment that Zelhar looked a lot like Rolan's long-lost brother? Maybe it was Rolan's long-lost brother who was killed."

"Or maybe it was Zelhar who was killed, and Rolan's brother the one who came back to haunt him."

"Arggh! That's true! Man, this is so confusing!"

"It's supposed to be, I guess. Forces you to think a little. Recall how the play ends?"

"Rolan and Caith kidnapped, Caith supposedly murdered, Zelhar or someone who pretended to
be him revealed, then Caith wakes to see Rolan at the brink of getting murdered? That's doubly confusing."

"Quadruply. The way I see it, there are five possible explanations. Either Zelhar wanted revenge, teamed up with Caith, who was also angry, and murdered Rolan and Selia..."

"Or Caith, Selia and Zelhar played a big practical joke on Rolan to make him see the error of his ways...."

"Or Zelhar died, and his uncle, Rolan's brother, murdered Selia and Rolan for cheating on him, with the help of Caith, who was actually the child of Selia and Rolan's unnamed brother..."

"Or Rolan murdered Tara, Zelhar, and Selia, and Caith and his uncle, Rolan's brother, took revenge..."

"Or Zelhar used Caith, who thought it was just a big practical joke, to take revenge on Rolan and Selia."

"Haha, maybe. The last one's pretty far-fetched, though. I prefer the first explanation."

"I don't think it's that simple. I prefer the third."

"Well, to each his own...."

And thus the two friends continued arguing as they walked in the moonlight.

Rantings of a troubled mind

Beyond the stars
Beyond the mind
Above imagination
Below the doubts
Further than the furthest dream
Within the darkness of the deep
Beyond knowledge
Beyond thought
Above darkness
Below light
Amongst the stars
Under the sea
Where, o death,
Is thy sting?

Longing, wanting,
Hunger, thirst.
Watching, waiting,
It disappears.

Falling behind,
Falling asleep,
Falling from on high,
Into a dream.
Without thought,
Without knowledge,
Into a place
Where light is darkness.
For dreams surround
The mind knocks
The heart opens
Imagination leaps
Desire grows
Feelings dim
Emotion abounds
The soul cries out
In laughter
In sorrow
For peace.

Looking at that empty place
Falling into a dream.
Trying to sense the depth of darkness
Not knowing what could have been.

Wht if I'd just wanted to know,
What if there wasn't me?
Would there be a place tomorrow
Where I could just be free?

Knocking on the open door,
Searching in my heart.
Banging on the gates of heaven,
Trying to do my part.

Why am I so lost, alone?
Why am i a freak?
Is anything worth striving for?
Or am I just asleep?

I just try to be accepted
But life laughs in my face
I'm uncertain and incredibly confused
About the choices I have to make.
How do I end the competition?
How can I mark my place?
When can I stand proud and tall
To meet another's gaze?
Is only the best acceptable?
Is the best who I really am?
When can contentment, satisfaction,
Overcome the fear of losing face?
Is happiness the answer to life,
Or life the answer to happiness?
To seek out good and strive to conquer,
Or sit back with a grin?

-The Madman, 62nd day of the Endless Month.

On Life

What is life? What's the difference between something that's alive and something that's not?
Consider an insect, say a fly. When it buzzes around your head and disturbs your concentration, you would not doubt that it is alive. More so when it bites you and flies off, while you mutter a curse and rub the sore spot. But compare it to a rock, say a small piece of granite. No one who's sane would claim it's alive. It doesn't move. It just sits there and does nothing. Yet when the rock becomes part of a rock golem that's trying to kill you, I'm sure you'd no longer think of it as "unalive". How can you, when you're fighting against it for your life?

So what's the difference between a rock an a fly? Well, one obvious difference is their level of activity. A fly can buzz around your head all day. A rock can't. But does activity signify life? Can you call something 'alive' just because it moves about and does stuff? It's true that everything that's alive does some kind of activity. Trees, birds, plants, animals, humans, even coral reefs, they all do SOMETHING. But more importantly, they do that something by THEMSELVES. A rock thrown against a wall is active. But that activity does not come from within. A fly, on the other hand, will buzz around you without you having to throw it into the air or flap its wings for it. Life therefore, must have INDEPENDENT ACTIVITY.

But this does not define life. The equation Life=Independent Activity makes no sense. Rather, independent activity is the RESULT of life, not the cause. So , to understand life itself, we must examine the REASON behind independent activity. Why do flies buzz around our heads? Why do trees grow? Why do animals eat and excrete? Why do humans jot down meaningless words on paper? Hmm. The reasons vary, but one thing underlines it all: PURPOSE. A rock has no purpose of its own. A rock golem does: to protect, to attack, or to serve. A dead fly has no purpose, or rather. it has accomplished or failed in its purpose. A living fly has purpose: to survive and reproduce. The same goes for every other living creature.

The equation Life=Purpose does make sense. Something that's alive is something that has a purpose, or a will of its own. Life has a goal, a target. Everything that acquires a purpose, a goal and has the means to achieve it independently can be said to be alive. What do I mean by the
latter half of that sentence? Well, think about it. A rock may have a purpose and a will of its own. No one knows. The rock may want to reproduce and multiply and move about. But it does not have the MEANS to do so. Therefore it is still not alive. A fly, however, is able to survive and reproduce on its own without help. Therefore it is alive.

Ah now, Life=Purpose does bring up something interesting. I would say purpose=will=what something needs/wants. A rock golem's purpose is small: to serve another. A fly has a bigger purpose: survive to reproduce. Ditto for plants, bacteria and other low-level lifeforms. But as life becomes more complex, so too does its purposes. Consider bees. Each has an individual, different purpose. The only purpose of a worker bee is to collect food. The only purpose of a soldier bee is to protect, the queen to reproduce. Yet collectively they have a higher purpose: to manipulate their environment and maintain a great hive so that their basic purpose, to survive and reproduce, can be better fulfilled.

But move up the life level/food chain some more and you'll see more purpose. Lions want to survive and reproduce, but they also need to form family units, prides, with each individual needing a place in the pride. In other words, social organization. All higher level life forms, in this sense, compete for POWER. Male bucks fight, as do male monkeys, male lions, male kangaroos, and male (and female) humans. But sentient beings are unique: we decide our own purpose. We can want everything or nothing. We can desire world domination, or fame, or wealth, or maybe just simply love. Maybe underlying all this is the basic purposes of surviving and reproducing. But it is clear that sentient creatures have gone beyond that. We can choose our own purposes. Why, some of us even go against the basic instincts of surviving and reproducing by willfully commiting suicide or deciding not to have kids. So sentient beings have a higher level of purpose. Therefore, if Life=Purpose, can we not say that sentient creatures are more 'alive' than other creatures? Are we not on a whole different level of Life compared to other creatures? Maybe the hierarchy goes like this: Lower life forms are the Least 'alive' having the least complex purposes, reptiles are more 'alive', mammals still more, and sentient creatures, having the most complex purposes, are the Most 'alive'.

Anyhow, life= purpose brings up yet another question: Why life? Or rather, why purpose? Or what is the purpose of having a purpose? Why do plants and animals want to survive and reproduce? Why do sentient beings search for their own purposes? Why live at all? A much more powerful question, don't you think? Maybe the answer lies in the ORIGIN of life. But that's another story altogether....

-Musings by the ArchMage BenGarth

The Longing Lingers

I have carved your glorious name
Deep into my heart

I have dove into your eyes
Though they are as unfathomable as they are

I have said all that I could
To melt your cold in-malleable heart

I have kissed your lips
Which are so full, tender and soft

I have held your gentle hands
I have held them and never let go

I have embraced your lithe body
I have them engulfed in my arms

However, I do not have your heart
I could not conquer it

Though I dream of you
You are far away
Though I yearn for your love
You are distant
Though you here in my presence
Yet you are not

It is as clear as the rising sun
which cast warm glows onto the plains

It is as axiomatic as the truth
which I have spoken all this while

I lust for you more and more
I heave and howl
I grapple with myself
For I grow weary in waiting

Allow me this chance to touch
Your soul, your essence, your heart
Allow me this chance to fulfill
Your every desire, your every need

Your longing.

For your longing satiated
Then I too.

Es-Qara, age of origin unknown

Hasegawa

Here's another feeble and futile attempt at descriptive writing. My tenses and grammar are screwed. Bah... Anyway here it goes:

======================================================

As Hasegawa slowly marched through the forest, he took a deep breath. He let out a contented and satisfied sigh. Oh, the sweet air of home. How many years has it been since I last tasted the air of Kamelar? he wondered to himself.

The twittering of zanee birds, the croaking of mud frogs, the whoosing sound of the wind through marawi tree leaves, the constant humming of the wood bees and the steady thundering of the great waterfall - God's Leap made Hasegawa feel more at ease. The familiar noises reminded him of all the good and bad times he had experienced as a child and as a young man.

Here, in the ancient forests of Kamelar, he had spent countless hours playing, laughing, hunting, crying. Here, he met friends who later became his brothers and comrades. Here, he fell in love with Seona. Here, he lost his family to a rival clan. Here, he became a man by avenging his beloved family members' deaths. Here, he became a soldier.

But, there and then, he was just Hasegawa - free from pain, death, blood, tears, worries, troubles, mistakes, disappointment. For the past 20 years, he had been fighting fierce wars and brutal battles at lands foreign and far from Kamelar. He had been a soldier serving under the banner of some unknown "great" king. On one unfortunate night, Hasegawa's platoon was ambushed. The skirmish was quick and bloody. Survivors were held captive and were sold as slaves. Hasegawa escaped his captors and wandered like a madman. He had no hope, no honour. Somehow, he remembered home. Yes, home was where he wanted to return to.

The desire to be home again drove him. He regained some of his senses. Hasegawa resorted to becoming mercenary as means of sustaining himself. He travelled with rich masters, merchants and traders to lands that were new and strange to him. Through his journeys, he gained experience and knowledge. And, the entire time, all he thought of was home. Slowly, Hasegawa learnt about the world outside Kamelar. The jobs he had taken were mostly plain and uneventful. But, there was one that changed him forever. He could not forget what he had experienced on that expedition. However, he slowly got over it and after a few years, he had collected enough money and information to get himself home. Feeling sure of himself, he set out for Kamelar.

And so now, he was in the forests of his forefathers and their's before them. He was so near to home. In his mind, he could already see the wooden windmill, the chickens running around, the children chasing one another and fighting imaginary wars. He could almost hear the housewives reprimanding their naughty children, the mongers yelling out for customers and the sounds of the people's merry chatter. As Hasegawa trod down the trail that would lead to his village, his heart raced but it was not because of excitement. He sensed that something was amiss. Feeling dread deep in his gut, he ran the last few yards. As he turned the last corner, all he faced was horrific. Blood was splattered everywhere. Decapitated heads were all over the muddy ground. The thatched houses were black as if from fire. Dead bodies twisted in odd positions were filled the scene. The gore would have made anyone faint in disgust. Even the seasoned Hasegawa had trouble keeping the contents of his stomach in. His knees became weak suddenly and he was nauseated. The aura of blackness and death was evident and it set the atmosphere tingling with evil energy. Hasegawa collapsed feeling rage and despair.

***

He woke with a scream. He screamed and screamed until his throat gave out. As he sat up coughing and choking on his tears, Seona aroused and gently held him.

"What's wrong dear?" asked Hasegawa's startled wife.

"Nothing," mumbled Hasegawa quietly, not wanting to divulge the details of his nightmare.

"Nothing you say? My husband must have lost his senses," replied Seona. "You wake up howling like you've lost everything you cherish and treasure. And, you look horrible. And, you're drenched in sweat. Yet, you say there's nothing."

The couple sat quietly for a few minutes.

"I have to leave," started Hasegawa.

"Why?" asked Seona, her face a mask of calmness and serenity. A tight frown slowly formed on her gentle forehead. In her heart, she feared the worst.

"My dreams, they are full of death. I must leave - it is a sign," explained Hasegawa.

"How do you know? A sign hinting at what?"

Hasegawa sighed painfully.

"I've been hiding something from you all this while, and I'm terribly sorry for it. On one journey, I was given the offer of escorting a group of mysterious people to Mount Thunderhell. The five of them were not ordinary people - that I could tell. They wore black robes and their eyes were a funny dark colour. Each had a unique and intricate design tatooed on their left cheek. I knew I had to be wary about these people. I don't know why I had agreed to escort them. So, all went well until when we were ascending Thunderhell."

Seona's eyes narrowed in suspicion; she had a thing against magic and sorcery. Hasegawa felt her scrutinising eyes burrowing holes into his.

"We were attacked by a band of creatures that I do not know of. There were three of them. The fearsome creatures were ghastly. They could fly and their howling nearly drove me mad. It must have been a miracle for me to have survived the encounter. I was so terror-stricken that I dropped my sword - I didn't think that my sword would work against them either. The five men I was escorting were unnerved. They stood in a circle as those creatures advanced on us. Then, there was a chorus of murmuring and I could feel the air tingle with strange power. The men screamed one word at the same time. Suddenly, streaks of black energy came down from the sky like lightning and struck the creatures. They instantly dissolved into nothing and the air stank of rancid flesh."

"Then, what happened next?" interrupted Seona, her heart racing for she knew her husband had gotten himself involved in something she didn't like.

Hasegawa gulped in air.

"They told me that they were disciples of Sixor - the Death Goddess. And after witnessing their banishing of the spirits, I must assume the mantle of disciple also, for no man is allowed to watch the power of Lady Death and go free. I refused and fled, so they put a curse on me. I was forced to become one of Sixor's avatars. Whenever I am needed, She will send me a nightmare. This time, I must seek out someone evil and powerful and eradicate him. Or her. That person is misusing power by doing something only Sixor has authority to do."

"Evil and powerful? Who? Don't go. It's too dangerous," said Seona with a worried tone. His husband had only come home two months ago and he was going to leave her.

"I don't know who but I will know when I see him or her. And, I have no choice. I'll have to do it, or else...."

"Or else what?"

Tears started to stream down Hasegawa's rough and slightly wrinkled face.

"Or else, my divine mistress will claim all of Kamelar to be hers. And I shall have to live alone with no home and honour."

Seona began to sob.

"I am sorry my dear Seona. I must serve my mistress because She is the only one who should have any say over who lives or dies," whispered Hasegawa. A lump began to for in his throat and he struggled to speak.

"Then, leave if that is what you wish and need to do," screamed Seona bitterly. The moment she feared had come - Hasegawa was going to leave for a foolish and futile mission and die in the process, and she won't see him ever again.

"Please understand," said Hasegawa, trying to comfort his wife. "I'll return, I promise."

Seona fled the room crying.

Silently, Hasegawa got out of bed and dressed. Now, he had a mission to accomplish.

======================================================


Heheh... And oh, by the way, Happy Chinese New Year!

Questions

Uncertainty currently reigns unchecked.
Noble and ignoble questions and answers rage through my mind.
I wonder, I wander, I search but do not find.
Some things are meant to be esoteric, I guess.
Maybe they keep us humble.
But still I think of all the unanswered questions with rancor.
Is there ever a right answer?
Even the answer to that question may not be the right answer. Who knows?
But somewhere,
Knowledge slumbers.
Meaning, purpose, a semblence of order...
Somewhere someone knows the answers.
Or do they?
Is it possible that some questions were never meant to be answered?
Can it be that even God doesn't know why he exists?
Now THAT borders close to blasphemous.
Or does it?
How can one be blasphemous if one does not understand who God is?
We THINK we know,
but God wouldn't be God if we could understand him, don't you agree?

Cogito, ergo sum.
I think, therefore I am.
But when I do not think, am I still me?
When I am no longer able to reason,
Won't I still be me?

Somebody tell me!
Why does the universe exist?
Does it exist just to satisfy the whim of a Creator?
Or is life and reason the purpose of existence?
The applause for the Big Bang was only heard 15 billion years after it happened.
But why would the Big Bang want to be applauded?

What if there's no purpose to this world?
What if life doesn't have a meaning?
What if there's no such thing as a soul?
What if it all ends when you die?
And there's no heaven and hell?

Why are you so certain of what you believe in?
Faith cannot exist without doubt.
And faith is what this life needs.
Faith that it'll all make sense someday.

But faith without purpose is meaningless.
Did the chicken come before the egg, or the egg before the chicken?
Did Life come before Purpose, or Purpose before Life?
One may even ask,
Did God come before Man, or Man before God?

Doubt is good, I believe.
Without doubt, there wouldn't be questions.
Without questions, there wouldn't be answers.
Ah, but then again,
Did the questions come before the answers, or the answers before the question?

Maybe there are two sides to a Mobius ring.
Just that somewhere in between they become one.
Why do people ask questions?
Because we are people, I guess.
The hallmark of the human being is curiousity and reason.
But human beings do not have all, or indeed any, of the answers.
The answers are inherent to the universe.
Or are they?
Who decided that 1+1=2?
Who decided that gravity pulls instead of pushes?
Who decided that the quanta is the smallest possible unit of light?
Who decided that nuclear reactions release, not absorb, energy?
Who decided that nuclear reactions could happen at all?
Why are the hydrogen bonds at a 105 degree angle to the oxygen in water?
Why are electrons charged negative?
Who has all the answers to the universe?
Are things the way they are because they are the way they are, and always have been and always will be?
Or is there a Master Designer?
An Architect, maybe?
Can reason ever be self-defeating?
Think.
Think again.
Then reconsider.

Maybe the questions are more powerful than the answers.

-I'm terrified, Ma'narith, 16th year of King Zervan.