Where are the Legends amongst us?

Consequently we cry aloud: where are the knights? As we look around, they appear and disappear, faded into twilights. Champions of mediocrity reigns with charm, gazing further, we see the heroes. They are shaping the age ahead. Our age is evolving. This generation is self-defining. Imagine how we are emerging. Our age is dividing and defining. Can you see the divide? Can you see the dots? We were raised by heroes, fathered by giants. Their voices cry aloud from afar. They are voice of discipline. We were likened to gods, daily dying like moths. We were bound for Palace in Paris. We detoured as troupe through greed to Greece. We landed in Cyprus seriously injured. We were displaced to Syria. Our journeys have become a destination. We stopped. Progression ensnared at four-way sign. We came to the place called Kalahari. It’s like Sahara. These deserts happened to us amidst our journey through Arctic. We feel the winds amidst the storm. The wind-chill as we burn. We live with heat within. Our souls cry out for help. We starve, we stench, we sound as those who seems to be starched!

Legends are afar; we must catch up with them. Nevertheless we must run towards the light! Do you need to look far to see and plunge in? Do you have to squint to see the utmost? Who said they’ve all gone? The legends are all dead? When we see the handwritings of change, we feel the hope and know those who bring revolution are not far fetched. It is uncomplicated recognizing why we live in two worlds. How two different matrixes hold us all? Why they are strangely pulling us apart? There is a world of greatness. There’s distinction. It is the lowest height of prospect. The daily tenet there is plain: you either breathe your last on it. It’s excellence. It is exceptionality. It’s for you and you alone. You must live for fineness or there is no other option. There’s the second matrix. It is the world of mediocrity. It is where few things matter. It’s where principles and values don’t grow with age. It is an island of ease. You just take it easy and go with the flow or flow with the groan. Sometimes you can be stuck in between.

You can be pushed or pulled. You can even fall so badly; beaten by the drift, forgotten in the fight and flight of survival. The attitude of gang of choice may knight you as a “legend”. Words, habit and more may make you. There are those whom we only need to see once again and our dreams would soar again within [us]. There are those we need to run the Deer’s race away from. If only to preserve our dreams, we may have to reverse. If we will ever fulfill those dreams, there are destiny gangs we must identify with. We must stick together forever. There are those we must observe closely for fortune to be born forefront. There are inspirers even from afar that we only need to see again and soul would soar again. We may come to the post tagged “arrival” to see that there are few of these ones amongst us. We may get to that point when stimulation can only be drawn from within us. We may reach a yield sign where our inner reservoirs of old is calling enter to great lanes. Join only noble causes. Motivation may be a question of within and not without. We can either yield or stick, seeing maggots, faggots and harlots. Change will never be born; greatness will never be real until we can truly cry, not for the legends but dare to be the legends amongst us.