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Pathos / Daniel Byerly © 1994
"Here, on walls that no enemy could lay siege, I now stand defeated. The dream is vanquished and the memories give way to bitter truth. In the distance my ears hear what my eyes have already begun to feel. A cock crows, does he warn or mock me? No matter, the dawn comes, and with it the pain of despair. This black heart of mine grows heavy, and the sadness which I have come to revile, burns me like the light that now climbs out from the horizon. The darkness below calls to me, and I am bound to it by a cruel power that is stronger than any other. It pulls me back from the light of day and down into the abyss. I am forced to sleep, yet again, only to awaken from one nightmare into another. My existence has become like the sea that ebbs and flows along the shore. Oh, mighty ocean, like you, I will go on until the end of time itself. Forever."
- An excerpt from Pathos
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Ordinary World / Daniel Byerly © 1995
"It was here in the work centers that existence was the most difficult. The sound of the machines never stopped. The thunderous motors rumbled and roared while the conveyer belts slithered in between the multi-leveled maze of catwalks and staircases. The burning flames that escaped from the huge furnaces reached up into the air like orange hands, the heat would rise to the roof and then, unable to escape would push its way back down to the floors below. But the machines felt and heard nothing; like great metal gods they had stood unmovable and all powerful even before the beginning of time itself. They were the black heart that pumped life into the empire. Day after day they continued to produce more death, and with each new shift the thick black smoke rose into the dirty sky smothering the surface below and blotting out the noon day sun. But how long had it been? When did the world change? Most of the old ones had been removed and those who were approaching "the change" feared the punishment of any such memories. The old ones were the new scourge, the new scapegoats. They were the only bridge to the past. The bridges would be burned for there was nothing before the great war, and yet there was nothing now.
The young ones moved like a thousand ants. With blistered hands and broken backs they toiled at the feet of the mechanical gods. Feverishly working they had little time to think, quotas must be met. The thousand years had just begun and the ordinary world no longer existed. History had repeated itself. The darkness that makes man evil had escaped, set loose again. The reflection had crossed over and had now become reality. All that had been perceived as good was now trapped on the other side of the looking glass. The ordinary world was gone."
- An excerpt from Ordinary World
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