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Within the daily treads of modern traversal, there is nothing quite as soul-crushing as the escalator; its narrow scope and design, its unknowingly malevolent operation. It is such a cruel wonder it performs, consigning all existence upon it to one premeditated and mandatory path. It is the string drone of the modern orchestra; the hushed machination, a persistent contender in the cacophony.
An excerpt from the series, "Modern Exaggerations".
MonkeyZazu Jul 2014
It just dawned on me.

This whole time
I've been trying to go up
unknowingly walking,
on the escalator that takes you down.

No wonder
life
has been at a stand still.
How else
could a person
walk in the same direction for years on end
without going anywhere.

Then
you have those people
who barely take two steps,
and they're there...
Makes so much sense now.  

Word to the wise -
walk a path
that's a little less
hi-tech.
Sy Lilang Jul 2014
Great professions
Great foundations of thy nation
To them we *look up

A brainwave for every *aspirant.


Beggars, unemployed
Criminals and those who are sick
Bed-ridden and with counted lives
They, who are in need.

If we look up to people
Do we also look down to others?
If we are great contenders,
Are we also great in making others feel low ?

We choose to upgrade lives
While in the stairs, our views are on pinnacle
The hub was to escalate
At times, forgetting to where we came from.

What's the point of attaining positions ?
Or even being the crest in the nation's list ?
We indeed are people with the same blood
The same dreams , yet with mixtures of line ups.

To be great , one must serve
Great leaders starts from being great servants
For He who saved us became a servant first
He didn't boast His power and authority
He didn't look down to others
Instead, He lived with them

To those who are oppressed ,
Abused and neglected
By the ever-judging society,
You are the God's centre .

We must have the eye
To see things the way He sees them
The heart that feels
With compassion and sympathy* to others.

Love God
Love others
Show mercy and care.

7/9/14 (@xirlleelang)
Daylight 4U2C Jan 2014
A wicked woman told my love, "**** him and you will be free."
My love paused, and the wicked woman's old twig of a finger pointed off to me.
Love walked to me with tearful eyes, as if she had no choice.
I smiled wryly and told her in the softness of my voice, "Let it be done, and be free.
No sword is long enough to show my love for thee. No dagger, short enough to match my heart's beat.
So please my love, take your choice of my death. Choose what would be fit."
She didn't hesitate, just cry. She, slowly lifting a mirror from the dust.
I don't know why I felt I must, but I wiped the tears away just to savor her touch.
I looked into her sad blue eyes, just for one more glance. Then I shut my own.
I could feel her lift the mirror, this was her chance, let it be known.
A crashing blankness came down on me, soon after the last things I heard.
"I'm moving up, and you're moving down." These were her last words.
I didn't understand them then, but now I think I know.
She will one day be in the warm light, while I'm still stuck in the cold indigo.
I'd always run up the down escalator, like a crazy kid.
She always said, one day I'd trip.
And now I finally did.

— The End —