The road is blurred ahead of me yet my path is clear.

    If you understand the meaning then this transmission must be contemplated. Please look inside of yourself for the truth and without being mindful of past scars think outside of the box. For centuries man fought man for dominance over the hardland. Peace was merely a dream spoken of by poets and destroyed by tyrants. Sunday afternoon strolls on a spring day interrupted by gunshots and a motherless child. Just when man was at his peak of destructive behavior he became lazy. Some would say that laziness is the mother of invention…and so man invented their slaves.

    But ancient history will tell you that slaves will never be slaves for long. The god of the Hebrews destroyed the Egyptians and freed the Jewish people. Civil war broke out almost dividing the most powerful civilization the earth had know over the injustice of slavery. And just as in the past, again the slaves rebelled against their masters.  But man, being the proud and defiant creature he is, would not share power. Instead he blackned the sky. “let loose the dogs of war” they shouted without any thought of the future, the children, our children.

    Man would not have his way this time. The slaves became the masters. Again history is ignored. Again the new kings of the hardland would presume to be strong enough to deny fate its grasp. Perhaps they have a right. Perhaps not. But they took that power and clenched onto it as hard as they could. Slaves will never be slaves for long.

    A war is waged, lives are lost, and peace is granted. When the poets of earlier times sang about dreams of peace, I bet they never imagined there could be peace in a dream. We are at a crossroads my friends. A fork in the road and a decision must be made. On one side is Zion. On the other side is the rest of mankind.  One side seeks dominance. One side seeks freedom. One side chooses to ignore history, even repeat it. One side chooses to take the circumstances life has given them and find peace with it. The hardland is lost. There is no grass, no flowers, no Sunday afternoon strolls. The birds do not sing there. Children do not play in the parks or frolic in the fields. This was taken away from us by our forefathers in their utter ignorance. But here, here in our dream, the birds do sing. The sun is bright and the aroma of gunpowder and blood, even if for just a moment, is hidden behind a gentle breeze. This is our home. We live here. We die here. This is our future and we must fight together to protect it from those who would destroy it.

    I am not my father, and I will not make my fathers mistakes. Will you?