The Golden Age and The Fall

We lie between Angels and Apes...light and dark...heaven and hell.
Mortal, but more than mere animal,
we seek meaning where we can...
in religion, in science, in art, in each other, and ourselves.
Creatures of the sun, we see life and truth in the light...
...and death and mystery in the dark.

When the light vanishes, (for but only a moment) we are in terror.
Sometimes, what we feel, can only be felt on the border of...
truth and mystery, life and death, existence and oblivion.
In the wheel of life, from birth to death, we all come to know...
...of fate deemed inevitable...
...that we all grow old (in ways we cannot stop)
...that all of us end (from this there's no escape)
...one day (some day)
Death comes to all, we have but to wait.

Lacking patience, we fear what (if anything) ...lies beyond.
Vainly we personify the action hoping that when Thanatos finally comes...
that the Angel of Death will take us gently, as a friend.
For come she will, no matter...
how rich, how poor , how pure, how corrupt, how innocent, how guilty, how virtuous, how sensuous, how loving, how hateful, how fearful, how faithful, how hopeful ...we are.

We age.
Each day one step closer to that unknown appointment.
We get old.
Our youth falls from our frame like apples from a tree.
But we remember youth.
We see it in our children, our link to the future past our death.
And we grieve.
We grieve for things lost, for things never gained, for our mortality.
For we imagine (because we are all egos) that somehow, we are to blame.
And we imagine (because we are all creative) that life, that humanity as a whole, is just like us.
That once, in humanities youth, there too was a golden age.
That, like our youth, it too was in the past.
An age of splendour, an age of vitality and age when we could do no wrong.
Except...that by our own choice.
We questioned...and in doing so...became no longer the
chosen less than gods and mortal.
We are all fallen angels...waiting for our fate.

Some...fear that fate.
In death...they see the worse in themselves.
And an end...to opportunity.
In desperation they turn against their elders...as if killing age kills death as well.

Others take solace in the flesh....
(or vice as they perceive it)
...eagerly anticipating another embrace.
While some found the comfort in others.
Alone together, they consoled each other.
Company produced comfort.
And the ruins of the times looked less…menacing.
Some thought that to cheat death, they only had to cheat time, and made images of how, in death, they'd like to be...
Jeweled, noble, glittering…
While others commissioned works of art.
Recalling, at least to those that see, how they hoped to be in life.
Some hoped the painting would age, not them...
(but they were mistaken)
...for art dies too.
But time cheated us...
...and still we rotted, or turned to stone.

Still others...honoured the risk of death.
...made conquest and glory a game.
...and others believed them.
But they too passed.
Their monuments became curious ruins.
Targets for grafitti and birds.
In our desperation we petitioned our Lord.
... and other gods are fickle responding only to their whims.
Even The Goddess did not abolish the inevitable.
Rather, she allowed us some solice, and the promise of return.
Which we took, or left as we would.
And as Hecate, she watched o'er us at night.
So we studied death in case...
...or failed to.
And as we did, death continued on.
Some of us though, did not find horror in the inevitable.
Rather, the horror was mixed with...
...curiosity...fascination...and...lust?
The masses might wait in line for the final exit.
But we at least might slip away for some fun.
We determined to follow our passions...
...to where they would take us.

As always... not everyone approved.
All manner of vices were imagined about us.
Our excesses were viewed with suspicion.
(for everyone must play the game)
If we enjoyed ourselves,then we must be sinning.
(and they were afraid of their desires)
And if we were sinning,we might incite others to do so too.
(which must not be allowed)
Because our men dominated us...
...women were seen as the source of our temptation, of sin…
...and we believed our men.
Righteous in our hypocrisy...and because we were men (and therefore safe) or because we were jealous (and insecure) or we coverted their good fortune (for greed justifies itself) or wanted power (and power corrupts) or out of fear (and who does not fear?) or from boredom
...we denounced her.
And she (and those who supported her)
paid the price.
And we learnt... to hide, to deny ourselves to pretend to be one of them and to fear each other the other...the strange and the unfamiliar...
...and we learnt well.
Hiding from our enemies, some of us sought solice in the pursuit of science.
We looked for meaning, for the mechanics of being...
in the heavens above in the world around us in the forest of mathematical thought
...outside ourselves.
Science seemed so...empirical, real, precise, reliable, authoritative
...so promising.

We watched and waited patiently...
...for the results of our experiments.
But when they were in, we fled in horror at what we had done.
For we knew that when word got around...others would not be happy with us.
But it was all too late.
What we had created was impressive, yes...
...but what was the cost?
Did we control our wonderful machines,
Or did they control us?
We made ourselves onto robots,
just to make things easier for the machine...
...we walked with zombies, not in exotic climes, but every day to the factory.
And we created great cities, vast metropolises, human beehives of hope and despair but always of activity.

But with the machine came a way of looking at ourselves
that seemed all too real.
Now not only could we see ourselves
as we ought to be,
but also as we might be,
and better yet
as we could be.
(our dramas played out before our eyes)
The strange became the familiar, became the exotic...
...was copied...and the freak became attractive...
...indulged in fantasies, dressed the way we wished we could,
…were shown as heroes...moved in next door...and found true love.

When we looked at the world we saw that it was far more terrible than our worst fears.
We treated our children like pets.
We "ethnicly clensed" each other... the cleaners were
Guns, gas and ovens....and afterwards...
...we buried the remains with the rest of the trash.
Some of us did not take such a state of affairs lightly.
We objected as best we could.
It seemed as if the world had gone mad...
...but, it always has been.
It was hard to see beauty without seeing death nearby.
But we tried.
And still, the moon looked down on us.
...about life, and death, and all points in between.

And we in turn looked at Her.
And wondered....
And if we know anything at all...really know...(not just guess)
we keep our own counsel, and all that remains
...is our silence.

- from Gothic Roots (http://hunter.apana.org.au/~gallae/hecate/gothicroots/roots.htm)

Found this amazing website where views and insights on life, desire, terror, angels etc are given with vivid illustration. I happen to have this fascination with anything gothic...anything deep, dark simply intrigues me.

Some might not enjoy the site as much as I did, probably find it complicating, a little twisted, perverse and morbid but as I always say...'Sharing is Caring' :)