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  • Andre Lamartin

Day of the Hunter, Day of the Prey

Some days belong to the hunter, some days belong to the prey. Never satisfy your hunger fighting only for a new day. Every war has many battles, every soldier many lives to take. From this mortal stupor death grimly rattles, announcing its time to finally awake. Of all lies only the biggest lived to die another day, if survival of the fittest is all they teach today. What can ever be said of human evolution, if a record number of dead is our lasting contribution? What is the real point of an expensive education, if serving only to anoint false prophets of damnation? If the law of the jungle is all one lives to respect, please forgive the humble for daring to object. No man is willing to die for a cause far greater than himself, unless mindful of a lie that only repeats itself. Dying to hone a skill, passed down countless centuries, those living only for the kill are their own worst enemies. At what point do we accept there is ample reason to regret... living life always adept at ignoring the greatest threat? To write in times of war is to wage war itself, every question is a door open only to oneself. A man is not a beast, and should never act like one, many are now deceased long before life´s begun. Little children perished for reasons only adults can understand, competition is so dearly cherished all battle stations must be manned. Embracing all extremes, so insults can be hurled, no child ever dreams of a brand new world. If spilling blood is a right, not of passage but of life, embracing this mortal plight leads only to soulless strife. Animals who must kill in order to survive only remain perfectly still... while longing to be alive. Violence will never cease while settling an endless score, there is no lasting peace for those living only for war. To kill or be killed, if this is the real question, our lives are eternally filled... with mindless aggression. While praying for the day that finally ends all war, who can truly say man is now better than before? Old weapons in production have only given way to weapons of mass destruction that all fears never allay. If life's primary goal is having always more, what becomes of the soul surrendering only to war? Yesterday's fearsome hunter is tomorrow's defenseless prey, living and dying for a number, the faithless are led astray. Will there ever come a time... when living in peace is not a crime? Will there ever come a day... when man kneels only to pray? Perhaps we still need to evolve before finally having a chance... to find the requisite resolve, seeking eternal life as a religious stance. So a man of religious conviction can against evil always prevail, the Messiah outlived crucifixion, as the author of a divine tale. When fighting only for survival one should never live to forget: every departure bears a new arrival, every death a new sunset. Those living only to contend are never truly winning, as every violent end... is just a new beginning.


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