All my life I have wondered what it must have been for him to have taken those steps out into the sunlight and stood with his head held high knowing that for those his murderers the days were numbered. His heart must have been filled with a plethora of emotions. Of course he must have known from the outset what it was that they were going to do to him. Was I on his mind? Yes of course because his final words were about the finality of the old and the emergence of the new. He had always said of me that I represented the beginning. The new age. He held me in his arms and kissed my face, my head, my hands, panegyric as I kicked and giggled. And before he died he told the armed line facing him to do what it is you must do and do unto others what you must do, in this self same fashion, for your time can be measured in the seconds that tick away and vanish. You are the shadows of what was, the spectres of the Reich ancient. And after me will come my comrades and then their comrades followed by theirs, of all ages and their offspring. We embrace death. We have no fear of it. We are death's friend, it's intimate and you who love life are fated to fall, because of your love of life. Do not put down your guns. Do not swerve from what you have elected for me. Let me be your example, for death beckons me and takes me to it's bosom. The expletives of those guns which will pierce flashes into my heart and limbs are the firecrackers that celebrate your end. And he threw his hands in the air and his face to the skies and the order was screamed and the rifles whipped and their bullets hailed him on.
So it was and from whence they came, though not just to build piles of their own dead, sacrificing their lives but taking no victims. No, they came from out of the shadows with jackets loaded to the brim with explosives, throwing themselves at what the old styled as innocents, on buses and trains, parks and plazas, where they eat where they slept, where they played, where they prayed. There was no means to prevent it. In the thousands they came embracing death as a means to life. Regard for now, here, there, then, there is none.
Root them out, root them out, and the pilot-less drones were sent for life was a thing too precious to them to sacrifice. Not even one for their cause. Whereas death conglomerated us, sheltered us in the shadows where we multiplied and formed and structured, made laws that empowered our struggle. Those that died stood beside the living ablaze in a golden aureole of fire, indomitable for the cause.
But it was not all death. As their state fell. The banks. The consumer. So many fallen by the wayside, unable to comprehend why, why it was amidst a disaster the authorities sent no aide? Starving and helpless but flooded with images of commodities that were now out of reach. Sending son after son to return in a box, or limbless or simply lost to despair that their number could glut on the masses that laid themselves willing before them, with no care other than bringing about their end.
These were great great times. In death there is no cessation of existence and to those that understand this there is no end.
And to this end I have worked.