The chirrup of wood pigeon and the singing of the swallows that swoop and soar; the eagles of their own comprehension. Of course that same perception is not shared by the red wings scouting high above. Even the kites fear however, but when they are at peace, they are the deities of themselves. However, the way you feel about yourself does not matter. A boy with a crown may fashion himself King but that will not make armies match behind him. It will not make the powerful kneel. Power is an illusion in the minds of the downtrodden. It does not exist. The same as the big bad wolf and the witches, the legends of the forest do not. Then why does power strangle the life out of the mind. The brains of those without it are destroyed by their desire to acquire it, and when a man gains power the struggle to keep it will send him to an early grave, an illusion that can tighten a noose around the throat of a good man. That is why Matthew Williams-Tew moved to his small lodge in this beautiful, harsh and cold land.
Power. Only men and monsters
could think of something so sour
End of part 1
YOU ARE READING
Bliss
HorrorThe picturesque woods and hills of the Chilterns are an oasis of tranquility and beauty. Of course not only deer live in this country. And Monsters exist in minds of men.
