Over the last two days, I ‘ve been observing them and for once I felt pity for them. Those “holy” times all of them, want to believe in miracles, in resurrection and after life. All of them seek hope. Problem is, they don’t seek hope inside them but through others and religions. As Manowar suggest:
For the weak of heart, I will be strong
To the defenders of faith, I will belong
To the last of us, fight till we die
Till the keys, of the kingdom, are mine
All stand together
For the world to see
Now the time is right
To live out all our dreams
Say the words forever
Your strength will never leave
If you want to win the fight
Say, "I Believe"
Those lyrics accompany me, throughout the last year, everytime something bad was happening I was saying to myself: “I Believe” and I was countering it with all my skills and power. Time has come, where my inner strengths are leaving me, I know it. Every minute alive seems like an age to me, every day like a century, every week like a thousand years and so on. I ‘ve been a watcher over the last three years, I saw misery, I saw the pain around me, the pain that was on this planet since the dawn of humanity and predicted the infinity one that is about to come. I ‘ve been part of history over the last three years, I gave hope to others, interrupted some acts, tricked others, played with some people, used them for my own good and I fought Gods and Demons inside me. I can’t predict when Set Abominae will finally come and bring rest to me, but I hope, yes I really hope it will be soon enough.
Until then, my heritage, my luck, my curse may be looking after at least one person but hurry Set before I ended up saying: “Ónem i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim”
