And now the One is gone. For centuries the One has been our guide, our god, our foil and our muse and now the One is gone.
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The sculptors look longing at their stones the poets sit in abject contemplation of the page. No sermons or speeches ring out from pulpit or town square. The brushes are all dry, the lovers silent and the sages dumbstruck because now the One is gone.
There can be no doubt; didn't we all hear the wind shriek "No more". Nothing remains for us now except time upon time. The One has always been there, but now...
In the white noise of nothing a hesitant voice stammers, "What now?"
Slowly the sculptors reach for their chisels as the poets do their pens. Politicians and preachers begin their sermons anew and lovers resume the search for truth scribed on hidden flesh.
And now the One is gone.
But would I be a good Messiah with my low self-esteem? / If I don't believe in myself would that be blasphemy? - The Bloodhound Gang Hell Yeah