Život je nešto u čemu logike nema,jer,
To je sasvim druga tema.
Život je doživljaj pun radosti I saznanja,
A logika je proces računanja.
Zato su te dvije misterije,
Kao nebo I zemlja,
kao crno I bijelo.
Tako bi se reći smijelo.
Život poštuj,jer je život,
taj nepoznati konjanik iz magle
sa ogrtačem I nagnutim šeširom,
Ali kakva se to tuga krije
U zapuštenim, mračnim uglovima,
U kojima nema magičnog majčinog zagrljaja,
Ni toplog doma?
U tom besmislenom I mračnom prostoru,
Gledano kroz iluziju tuge, vremena
Vidi se jedna pogrbljena,dugokosa
I u samoći ostavljena žena.
Ona svojom svjetlošću I ljubavlju
Tjera tugu daleko od sebe
U iluziju prostora.
Ona ustvari ne brani svoj jadni,uništeni život,
Jer,za nju je pijesak vremena već istekao,
Ona brani mali,
Nevini život koji drži u rukama,
Kada je slaba svjetlost majčine svijeće
Duboko u duši ugašena,
Beba je ostala sama
Sve dok je neke čudne ruke
Nisu primjetile I odnjele.
Vrijeme je letjelo
Tražeci zanimljive dogadjaje
Koje će da ispovjeda Bogu.
Poslije dugačke portage vratilo se
Ka toj maloj bespomoćnoj bebi
Koja je tokom ekskurzije vremena odrasla.
Vrijeme sjede na granu,
Zaustavi se gledajući
Tu tužnu priču koju nam
I ako ikada u životu
Budete pitali Boga
Žbog čega je ovo dopustio,
Sjetite se da je zbog toga
Jer vi ste u ovom slučaju Bog,
U vašim rukama je
Više nevinih života
Koji u mračnim uglovima,
Čekaju na vašu pomoć.
Zato ne bacajte živote
U najbližu lokvu koju primjetite,
Sa očekivanjem da će neko drugi
Da preuzme taj zadatak.
JER BOG JE JEDAN !
Biće, koje je u početku ove priče
Odraslo je u velikog I
On je imao svoje prijatelje,
Zabavljali su se na račun drugih
Ali njihove duše su bile zagadjene,
Zagadjene neizlječivim otrovom droge.
Taj otrov je ulazio sve više I više
U njihove duše
kao jedna mala mrlja
koja je bila opasnija od velike bakterije.
I kada je ta mrlja odrasla
U tijelima tih nevinih života,
Oni su zaspali u nepovrat.
Samo je naš heroj
Ostao živ I sam.
Budeći se ,jednog vlažnog jutra,
Pogled mu je bio zamućen.
Išao je,bez da vidi pravac
I cilj svog putovanja
Ispod mostova I kroz šumice
Padajući ,bez očekivanja
Da će ikad ponovo ustati.
Pred sami kraj svoje izdržljivosti,
Pravac divljine koju je pratio
Doveo ga je do
Velike gvozdene ograde.
Kroz ogradu je mogao da primjeti
Djecu sa osmjehom na licu,
Ljude sa srećom u duši.
To mu je dalo nove nade.
I jedva održavajuci svoj razum,
Predje preko ograde
I primjeti fudbalski teren.
Bacivsi svoj zadnji pogled
Na ovome svijetu
Na djecu koja su,
Sa osmjehom na licu
Igrali puni zdravlja I radosti,
Pade u nepovrat.
Ali njegova duša,
Pored otrova droge ,
Nije bila zagadjena.
Droga otpade u pakao a on,
Zajedno sa svojom majkom,
Koja ga je čekala
Ode u raj.
Mislim ,da je Bog bio ponosan na njih.
The ancient oceans have survived the wounds of time,
but still the greatest challenge stands against them during those plagued times.
A deadly virus has been inflicted upon the endless beauty of the unknown deeps.
The ocean cries, but humans keep attacking them with their wretched elements of unnatural construction. The greatest danger that is crawling over the ocean like a hoard of bloodthirsty insects is plastic. It is in all shapes, but it all comes to a small and most dangerous size. That plague rules the ocean. Life is in danger if the ocean is. Now the beautiful blue energy that gives a part of it only to rain upon thirsty land, and even upon us, humans. Even if we have done terrible things to mother nature, nature will never hate us. Nature will always protect us, love us, and give us all the elements we need to survive.
We are the ones who hate nature, hate others, and deep in side, we hate our selves. How can someone love others if he doesn't love him self.
But a plague starts from one place, one center, one mastermind. This is a plague that has its bloody trail trough the heart of nature, and even trough ancient times.
What power has corrupted humans, giving them the will to corrupt others so they also become just like them. What is a ruler? It's a pitiful creature that is weak and hollow, trying to make others even worse reflections of their own souls.
Why does the ocean have to suffer the full hate and madness of our "civilization". How can we call our selves like that, we are spoiled with hatred to nature, we have lost the contact to the high path, we have betrayed the blue spirit that once loved us!
Nature will never hate, it will only cry...
T rue knowledge
H old your position and never pull back
I nner will to do the wright thing
N ever give up your dream
K een to find out more about something
B ackup for nature
L ove that gives us strenght
U nder the lies of others
E nd the disease of the sea
People have their own keywords.
Some of them are also answers to questions including the question:''how to get rid of dump''?
half of the earth finds the answer in the ocean. They think like fools. They believe that the great waters are big enough to hold our dump and a whole living system!
How foolish are those mortals... believing that all they lay eyes on belongs to them.... They shall see soon enough what it really means to posses a land.... The souls of animals, and the monsters called humans will all go down together. They will be forgotten, and than, they will no longer exist.... That is the fatal end of an era, mankind's greed has its price...and it's pay time....
If we don't heal the wounds we have inflicted to nature, we must give her back what nature has given us.... we must give back the gift of knowledge, so that nature can gain her full strength, and the flowers of life shall rise from the ashes of a wretched civilization.
If we don't change future, future will change us, and extinguish our inner fire.
If we don't change, nature will.
The endless deeps of an unknown space, holding the forgotten remains of the corrupted tribes. Dimensions are connected trough the middle world.
It's inner power is left locked behind the burning gates of madness its self.
The inside represents a cosmic illusion created by the great beast, a mighty spirit fused with the shade of the middle world. The illusion holds the wrong paths to knowledge and spiritual release. The gates are open to those who seek great spirits, but don't know how to summon them back.
The great beast shreds the portals between dimensions, manipulating their system. Now, the portals of the beyond can construct their bridges over the middle world, but without any guardian protecting them. They are left and forgotten, and with endless time passed, they become a part of the middle world, guarded by soul seeking abominations. They suffer great madness because of too much power... Their souls can't hold such ripping hatred. They become a part of the great beast... The dark cosmos spreads it's illusions trough the traveling hollow. The hollow represents the nine great seekers.
They collect mighty artifacts trying to steal the power they hold. One has been slayed by the great tree of life, but the other eight still remain...
All will be lost if the hollow doesn't pull back to it's corrupted master, and their seeds must fall a part before the great plague spreads and unleashes the full rage of the demon within.
So pure is a mind which knowledge begins...
A whole universe of ideas and creations... But still, there is always a starting word from others. We always hear people saying that some things are impossible... And we believe them at the begin of our life.
That's because an untouched mind starts forming it's own goal, and it's own world... The other characters in that world represent wishes and dreams. At the beginning they are empty... almost empty... There is always a rising personality in our mind, and that personality constructs new life..
It's a special kind of life... It can be used as an entrance to the universal mind, but it begins with one character, the mind itself...
If a reincarnated soul is bound to a new born life, it's image will appear in the new world of a rising mind...
If we build up our creative power, and focus it on our inner dimension, we will be able to enter a world which powers are deep hidden in the sanctums of our spiritual level.
What would mean that it can't be a part of you, but it is connected with you trough a bounding level. It holds the true desire your soul seeks. History is never on your side, it will always say that great knowledge is impossible...
Don't listen to the whisper of the darkened ancestors, their screams will not help you, in this path, there is no help, only your inner voice. Never accept the word "impossible", or it will hunt you to the end of your dreams. Our mind is a forbidden world in social(manipulated life).
Your path is only your path, it's not a way you can go together with other souls.
Listen to the Nature sing, to the choir of the trees, the murmur of the rivers, the rhythm of a woodpecker, a song of wilderness. Go back to the past and listen to the warnings of our ancestors who made the same mistake you are making right now. But, time did not allow for dreams, wishes and love of our ancestors to remain in the small universe of the thoughts of our planet, but they turned into the deadly vortex. Vortex that kills the belief.
That tragedy will not happen again because time took away the biggest treasure we did not know we had, so we did not keep it safe. How many beings had to and will die so that the well of sins in your souls, drenched with blood of living beings, is emptied?
Nature has the power to create and destroy, and the man cannot create or destroy. He has a higher power of destruction, ignorance and greed.
Listen to the whisper of the past and let the spirits of the past show you the truth.
Will the Nature need to create a being sufficiently strong to exterminate us so that it can wash its face off from the dirt that the humankind consciously and deliberately left, so that it can start all over again.
I am walking in the mountains, but I don’t hear that ancient sound of wilderness. It became weak. Trees are whispering, and I am worryingly listening while the eagle of time looks at me. The Nature gave the key of wisdom, but time is the door. The door keepers are you.
My journey through the holy land, listening to the Nature and learning its language, gives me the strength to endure the full blow of the Nature’s sadness. A gentle breeze on tops of the mountains is caressing my fur while I talk to the Mother Nature. Nature decided to teach me your language, thus, making a final effort before a torrent of wrath comes our way. Only those who hear the call of Nature will survive.
My people, brothers, pandas of the world, are sad because you are destroying our food, the holy land. The energy is not perpetual, and we receive it from Nature. How will pandas, as well as other animals, survive on rocks, which was created from destroying everything that is useful and linked to money in your eyes! As if a huge sadness fell upon our earth and now it is spreading like a blotch of paint in the water. Your efforts in restoring are also forcing you to beautify the Nature as you see it! Ecosystem, and the life of our population, is over. Our people, our brothers, their furs are fading as a flower without water. No matter how much you water it, it leaves before you pluck it! Help us clean the face of Nature and I, my brothers, pandas, will live again as one people, one world, one love!
This message is written by Nature to show you the trap of time and give you love and belief.
The battle against the time will occur and you will be given back what was taken away from your souls.
The wisdom of dolphins, timeless of eagle’s flight, leopard’s sprint, jaguar’s strength, will you destroy it all? Has the time accomplished its goal, the chaos? As if you were the sons of time!!
Let your ancestors open your eyes and show you the past, the future of today.
My task is thus complete. It is time for me to leave this world and go on a crusade of the Nature, so that time tower of time be demolished for good. My brothers, understand and learn from Nature, and not from greed. Good bye, but not forever!
Isn't it terrible to look at the poisoned ocean, the dirt and plague that infect the veins of life. Isn't it madness to dump all we don't need into the path of nature.
Imagine all that dirt and death in the far oceans...
But why should you imagine that?? Would thinking about a plagued ocean help? Wouldn't it be much more helpful if we all imagine how beautiful the ocean, and every part of nature would be if there wouldn't be our doings... By thinking, and imagining wild beauty, we might call upon the forces of the cosmos, showing them that we are willing to change.
We can go even further. We have to prepare our life for the change we wish. We must do something ourselves, the first step, so that we can start a huge chain reaction that has enough love, force, and imagination to begin forging a new image of nature.
It is time to paint the dirty image of the ocean blue... begin the change... the first step... are you...
Kako slijepac moze reci drugima da ih vidi....
Kako ih on moze posmatrati kada je slijep?... Moze li... Da li on mozda vidi vise, ako se otvori iznutra i oslobodi svoja cula... Sta to on vidi.... i, da li je potrebno biti slijep, ili obmanut sa puta realnih cula da bi se novi putevi, i novi instinkt probudio...
Sve zavisi od onoga sto stvarno zelimo, od onoga za cime zudimo, vatra koja u nama gori. Ali vatra je opasna, jer je ziva, siri se, raste na racun drugih elemenata, i ustaje iz pepela. Vatra je mocna, vatra osvijetljava ono sto zivi u tami, vatra takodje unistava postojanje onih koji su je probudili, a da su nemocni da je kontrolisu.
Prizvati odbacene sile bez iskustva njihovih sposobnosti moze se pretvoriti u simbiozu duha, tijela, i demona. Simbioza cija bi spiritualna energija bila u toliko velikoj kolicini da bi se cak i odrazavala na iluziju fizickih osobina.
Ultimativni demoni se prizivaju od strane izgubljenih ljudi, koji u svojoj dusi nose trn izaslanih aspekata velike zveri. Taj trn im omogucava da vide, cuju, i, osjete druge aure na beskrajnim razdaljinama, da cuju urlike, krike i plac mrtvih zelja, i da vide vrata, da cuju glas koji ih doziva da zakorace, da vise ne cuju nista, da osjete oslobodjenje... Svijetlost zraci, sve vise i vise, dok se taj mirni glas cuje sve jace i jace, obuzima... Ali onda se cuje glas blistav kao sunce, tecan kao voda, jak kao zemlja, i ziv kao vatra, i mrtvi se probudise iz sna, i ucinise taj nemoguci korak nazad, okrecuci se i gledajuci na zemlju, i more koje tece kroz svaki dijelic nje, vide i vatru koja cuva elemente, i osecaju njenu toplinu, trce ka njima, sve brze i brze, i cuju plamsanje njenog glasa.
Vrata medjusvijeta se zatvaraju, a taj mirni glas postaje otrovan kao smrt hladan kao smrt i, ostar kao mac, dok njegova snaga opada, tjerajuci ga da se vrati svom gospodaru, velikom izdajniku hiljadu darova.
Oni ga vise nece cuti, ali nece vise nista od svega toga ni vidjeti, jer su mrtvi, mrtvi za sva cula iluzije koju su zivjeli. Vise nece moci da idu dalje, nije im oprosteno, sada ce da lutaju u beskraj, sami uz sebe, noseci svoj aspekat sa sobom, odajuci svoj polozaj demonima, silama koje cekaju, cekaju i posmatraju, ali zanju, da su te duse za njih, ali i za druge, nedostupne.
Neka koracaju, i razmisljaju, dok ih ludilo ne unisti iznutra... Nisu zivi, mrtvi su, i padaju u dubine, trazeci ulaz, da bi unistili, da bi se osvetili, postajuci mrznja i bijes sijecanja, postajuci ono sto iz njih raste, umiruci, ali radjajuci se iznova, ali... sada vise nisu nesto, oni ne postoje, nisu mrtvi, zivi su, nisu pod zakonom beskrajnog koraka, sada traze, zude i gledaju, postsajuci samostalni...
Simbioza je nestala, ostao je samo jedan, nije bice, nije demon, ostao je zajednicki cilj, zelja da se vatra smrti, crna vatra medjusvijeta rasiri na dimenzije koje postoje, na dimenzije u kojima postoje cula... Ako nosioci aspekta ne mogu da vole, ne mogu da osjete, onda to nike ne smije, ne, oni ce da uniste sve, da bi spojili sve dimenzije u jedno ultimativno kraljevstvo, gdje su svi isti, gdje niko nece cuti tudje urlike, osim svojih...
Svijet ce zavrsiti u tami, jer je direktno povezan, otvoren velikoj zveri. Zemlja ima svoj centar, niko ga nije branio, niko ga nije posjedovao, ali sada ga posjeduje, sada ga obuzima, sada ga ispunjava mrznjom, ta sila, jedan izdajnik jedna zver, u svemu, u svima, ali ipak ne vlada, ipak je i dalje u sijenci, jer ceka da covijecanstvo opustosi svu ljubav i da zemlju oboja krvlju.
Jos ce dugo cekati, ali ima vremena, ono moze da ceka, ali mi ne mozemo, nesvijesno radimo, djelujemo, dok planeta umire, da bi se ponovo rodila i pretvorila u pakao cije je zrno vec odavno korumpirano.
The wind travels above the unknown ocean...
With wild speed and power he puts up his sharpened spears, and under his mighty wrath, the sea follows his blowing howl, leading it's water horses to battle.
Above the wind and battle shouts of the sea, a shadow flies under the arrows of the sun.
Is it a seagull? no, it can't be. They never fly so far away from their food source. it is a seagull, just one, with the iron will of life. He sleeps is the air, feeling the swift wind travels above the wind of war... Still his eyes are closed, listening to the war cries of the water horses and their riders.
Then, he opened his eyes, he stopped his dream. With full speed he entered the realm of the angry ocean, rushing into the middle of the battle. The sound of war was rising, and two armies of water soldiers began a deadly conflict, rising their collosal waves like titans to crush the enemy.
The seagull managed to get trough the strong breath of the war wind, breaking his spears, and pulling the illusion of the cloudy wind with him. The conflict was raising, and the soldiers saw the seagull incoming. The two armies prepared an allied attack to destroy the flying "cannon ball". They forged a massive titan, a wave of such might which power could crush all what comes in contact with it. But the bird didn't change the direction, there was only one way, and he was following it. with brave fury he got trough the wave titan, sharp like an arrow, and deadly like the wave its self. After wounding the titan and destroying his balance, the seagull crashed into the hard land of the ocean, and after him the titan fell, with a crushing roar his powers broke, and the immortal wave has fallen into the deep, vanishing in the endless ocean.
The seagull was sinking, in a deep trance. He opened his eyes and saw a huge gate with it's endless path into the deep, and he heard the voice... Come brother, come with us... we will show you your true path... why should you waist such might on the world above... i can give you everything, i can give you power... close your eyes... and forget them... you are with us now... you are... DEAD!
The brave bird opened his eyes brightly and used his wings to push him self away from the deep world, he was swimming to the top, but the voice was following him... you can't make it, you're too late, it's over for you... why should you leave, i can give you all you want...
The seagull turned his head around and looked to the gates of the world bellow . You can't give me what my heart seeks, you don't know what love is, he said.
The voice lost it's patience and became deadly as poison... NO, YOU WON'T ESCAPE, SUFFER THE PRICE FOR BETRAYING ME!...the bird turned around and swam to the top, the last words of the word bellow were... DIE!... a big piece of an umbrella got between his wings... he was to week to pull up with it... he sunk deep down, falling into the endless deeps, he heared the voice laughing with madness and hatred, it was the end.
Just a bit more and he would pass to the deep, but than the water started moving,faster and faster, stronger and stronger. The water pulled the seagull to the surface, and started collecting all the dump and stones from the ocean, forming it into a huge ball, and that, the mighty water ancient through the colossal ball of dump and with a piercing voice, the gates crashed, closing the path to the dark deeps, just the voice remained, repeating it's pathetic question to the sea... How is it possible, i... I AM IMMORTAL!... the voice weakened and vanished...
The seagull opened it's eyes... he was on the coast, the swift waves of the sea were crashing on the small stones guarding the coast. The waves were talking to him... thank you, thanks you hero... you made the brave decision to fight against the corrupted force....
The bird was confused... But i failed, why did you help me...
Why?... Because your success failed in the dump of the human plague... Your fight was not to end because of them...
The voice disappeared, and the seagull closed his eyes, he was still to tired to move, he was to tired to think, he was to tired to wake up...
It was a rainy day, with the image of a weak sun drawn on dying clouds.
Who would think that such days can actually come true. Such nightmarish Illusions maiden by the gray spears that have battled their way trough the clouds.
It's raining, and still is someone walking trough the dark streets of a sleeping city. Why would anyone want to take a walk in such a day. But... this one has a different taste.
He's gray cloak is almost invisible during this dark hour. The dark cloak makes it impossible to see the face hiding inside... you can only hear his breath... his slow steps... like a creeping death he goes trough the gates of the town entrance...
There's no reason not to leave such a dead place during a deadly weather. Still... this shadow seems to like the weather, and hopeless cries of the wounded sky.
Only thunder follows his steps... After walking so long, so far, he came to a forgotten coast. Showing no interest to the broken ship and blood painted riff, he walks to the ruins of a still burning tower. Walking trough the fire, the screams of the forgotten embrace their hatred over the stranger. But it doesn't seem to stun him... He seems like one of them... like a walking dead memory.
He enters the hidden chambers of coast crypt, hidden under a burning pile of animal skin and dirt. Slowly, he's steps become quite as the chambers howling wind. So cold, but not for him... so quite, almost like him... so dead, just like him...
He enters an under water cavern. Deep inside the dark cave, the sound of water travels like a lost soul, trough the old unshaped paths of the forgotten deep. It is dark, too dark to see... it is quiet... to quiet... why... but... the wind is still moving, like piercing ice it floats trough the cloak of the dark passenger.
Who is he... where is he going... The wind forms a voice, like the void its self. It leads the stranger to an iron door. It is locked, but he knows the way. His mouth releases a snakes language, dodging of the sharp walls. As if crushed with brutal force, the door fell down in thousand of rotten pieces, with a poisoned scream the path opens leading to the center of the crypt. On the end of the path, he steps loudly in front of as stone forged, serpents mouth. The huge creation opens it's eyes, looking at the stranger... Opening it's mouth, wind started to whisper a shattered sound, and turned into words... such language was destroyed, and banished from the face of , but still... the beast has survived. The stranger answers... and the serpent moves it's head under the darkened floor.
The stranger keeps walking... The feeling of life vanished, only the deadly breath of hatred flies trough the air... The stranger has entered the lair of fear.
The demon is sleeping... but not for long... the master... has returned... RAISE!... the shout spreads over the water and stops... too soon... like the water has eaten it.
The water surface in the center of the lair broke like glass, falling into a dimension, a chaos filled portal, with a heroes seal.
The master appears in front of the portal, the cloak starts to burn, and the master vanquishes... is he now dead for ever... RAISE! RAISE AND BRING DEATH TO THOSE WHO IMPRISONED YOU!... YOU ARE... FREE... a serpents voice, the strangers will... was spoken.... A black wall started to spread over the lair... And out of the abyss, Two red eyes appeared, watching, opening... with all it's hatred, hunger, and will of chaos... It said... I see you...
Man kinds conflict has risen the dead secrets, that sleep beyond the deeps of the dead scar, under the oceans suffer.
It's spirit is with us, watching, with great speed it travels trough the cosmos...but only... watching. It absorbed great knowledge... by watching... and still it has the concentration to control it's inner madness. But not anymore...
Too much time has past, for generations it has dreamed, seeked, and suffered the will for more power. More, and more. It must grow, it must spread... Yes... but how... imprisoned, in the empty deeps, hungering for a body to posses, a will to control, a world to devour.
It's will has been released, as a stranger, a damned horrific illusion offered his relict to free the beast from it's dungeon. The demon didn't keep his promise... He riped the strangers soul and turned it into a weapon...
The creature its self doesn't have a body, only it's eyes are visible to those who can survive the hatred and fire of the past.
Still it remembers, still it seeks, but it must never find it, or else, it is the end.
The reason begins with a past, what means that past controls the future, even if the future is still to come. So, why do we let memory control and change us, when we can change it. If not, we only show that we have the same line as demons... We stop existing when we become forgotten... Only demons will still exist, even if they are no longer remembered. The spoiled and wretched void carriers will still exist, even if they don't wield a soul... We cannot vanquish everything by forgetting it... Some elements must be banished back into the nether, where they will eat them selves. Hahaha... So much force, power, and anger, destroyed by its self, how pathetic... They've hungered, and after the release of madness, they will eat their own souls...
Reminds me on humans... Well than, who is more pathetic, or are we alike each other so much that we can't tell the difference?...