Whenever there is degradation of Dharma (virtue/righteousness) O Bharata, and growth of adharma (wickedness/unrighteousness) Then I embody Myself For the protection of the good (virtuous) For the destruction of the wicked (evil) To establish Dharma I take forth a body in Age after Age. The Bhagavad Gita IV: 7-8] "Better is one's own duty, though imperfectly done, than the duty of another well done. Better is death in doing one's own duty (svadharma); the duty of another brings danger. There are things yet to be discovered...and I go..where no one has ever gone...or ever will go again...I go ALONE...FOR ALL MANKIND. "From the darkest of all pits, the soul of Man, come the darkest questions: Did the soldier finally come to care for those he protected? Or was it just his instinct to kill? Questions from the dark pit. But no answers. For answers lie in the future. Is it a future in which men are machines, born to kill, or is there time for us? Time. All the time in the world... but is that enough?" To Protect The Future...That Is My DESTINY.
She has been nameless since our birth; a constant adversary, caring for nothing but my ruin, a sword drenched in my blood; forever my greatest and only love. She is the dark one; the enemy and lover without whom my very existence would be pathetic and vulgar. Her eyes steam and boil in the night (she is fantastically beautiful yet i cannot stand the sight of her). Our relationship is complex and perhaps eternal. We met once in the garden, at the beginning of the world and unaware of our twin destinies (not the garden of Genesis, but another; forgotten, untended and now choked with weeds, unvisited except for ourselves). We matched stares across a dry fountain, and I recall her smiling at me before she devoured the lawn and trees with a translucent blue flame and tore flagstones from the path and hurled them into the sky screaming my sins. Our reunions there are epic battles fought without quarter, often in the dark as the moon is seldom visible and the sun never. I powder a granite monument in a soundless flash, showering the grass with molten drops of its gold inlay, sending smoking chips of stone skipping into the fog. she splinters an ancient oak with a force that takes my breath and hurls me to the ground. She leaves and i lie in the slow rain of burning slivers of wood, staring at the low, dark clouds, craving our next meeting.
The Smann Behind The Mask.
"The body without soul no longer to be sacrificed, Day of death be put for birth: The divine spirit will make the soul happy, Seeing the word in its eterntiy." Nostradamus
Eve of the Universe: The Treatise of Quantum Survival Though Instant Mnemonic Transmissions. Written By Chanly Achillies Orn Smann….Work In PROGRESS Phi in Motion.
"We all have to realize the Heroic Possibilities in us all." When I fist Set My Eyes On Her...Something within me broke...she reminded me of something...a distant memory....long forgotten...a memory in which I yearned to find again