A poet recites the untold tales of nature, where science fails to penetrate but a philosophical imagination is able to emote what the lifeless creation would otherwise project. This narrative arose centuries ago, when the humans were young and language was no means but only signs were a distinct feature used to survive in a world that was yet to see the wonders of this species.
He was staring at the moon when he got an idea; something that was going to change the lives of these wanderers was incepted even before the words to describe it could form. A young lyricist, writing a song without the means but only with the power of expression, thought within, and what followed was a conception of something beautiful.
He presented on a stone, all the emotions he had, imagine the depth they were eclipsed inside him over the years as never arrived but were waiting to breathe the air. When others of his age hunted he expressed the pain he felt while the deer laid in cold blood, in the winters around the fire the lightening intrigued him and he wished to know more of it but no one allowed him to go near.
He didn’t realize then, a society of questioning was emerging, features that will take his kind to places that were thought to be forbidden then. So, as he finishes the last expression of the first verse he wondered what others will say about it.
The first poem was the truth that the man can write, all the urges in its raw form, not without the influence of anything around, not without the fear of anything any pronouncement was omitted or added, not without anyone to censor, but with the confidence of thoughts and ideas which drew the painting of the real essence of the human soul as it was untouched by anything else then, the presentation was such that from its birth to all the occurrences, the man knew the truth of its existence and that sincerity was woven into this scripture by this very person who was unable to carry the burden of thoughts inside and flourished all the intuitions in this first of its’ type art.
When the others read it, they were terrified; watching themselves on the mirror and humanity faced its first actual threat: its own true image. They were habituated to hide it, to run away from it, the shadow was never to be seen by the same eyes and this implied rule was broken by someone who was amateur to understand the lies his fellow beings have built to survive.
So when the reality is unmasked what proceeds is anger, which in its earliest form was brutal as they tied this anxious man who inked the first melody of humanity and threw him in the darkest place of town, what would come to be the prison for such kind.
[To Be Continued…]