We witness the modern world … separate and alone … but aware of each other linking mind to mind elsewhere. Do we all incarnate within this current time and dimension? Or are we separated by those barriers too? Am I alone on this ‘planet earth’ or could there be others of the group out there … wondering the same? If this is the case … then is it our destiny to meet again in physical form? Would we recognise the other and do we know where to look …. ?
Questions, many questions. Who is there out there to answer them? Is it ourselves that know there answers? Were we given them prior to our ‘birth’ in these physical realms … ?
And we witness in this critical stage. At this time of frantic wickedness by the forces of darkness. Most surely their toxins restrain our reaction; most surely we are subdued by the sickness they intended for us. We are powerless … to do anything but witness this terror filled realm. We experience as the sheep, for we are amongst the herd. Invisible within the field of silent screams … and the Sons Of Belial know we are there. They sense our presence. They know we do our utmost to break free from those toxic restraints. They see our attempts at awakening the herd. They know we practice our arts and make some difference. But it is not enough. We are so far below the mark, we wonder in our times of dream state telepathy … if this is the design of it all. Maybe we merely witness, because there shall be a miraculous event?
Something unaccountable to end the madness? A sound to arrive overnight … that sound; the frequency that will break the hold of the phantoms of the night? Within the minds of the herd; within the minds of the puppets; within the minds of the incarnate darkness too …
Something occurs to change it as it is now. We witness the swift tightening grip; the stranglehold on mankind. All the sons of belial desire seemingly to come to pass. But the feeling we have deep inside … is that of victory. Almost as if … it has already taken place. And this realm is the last to know. The sound of silence descends, perhaps, and we are to witness the change …
A new breath; a new sensation of fresh air in the lungs. A new dawn. And the sickness will be gone … as the doorway to their sickly realm is shut tight once more. It seems too good to be true. But if so, would it rid this realm of all the resident demons? All the phantasms that walk this earth, all with ill intent … and madness on their minds? How would the sound challenge their existence here? Unless … their forms are dematerialised in the instance this sound is formed?
So it once was … will it come to pass again? We sense it most surely needs to. Mankind is little more than a Zombie race now, at the mercy of the shadows … toxic poisons in food and water, and in the air, suppressing freewill … and Mankind as a whole sleeps through this darkness. Truly unaware of what has descended in to this world. Ignorant of what is there in plain sight which their minds have been trained not to see. The madness is all around them … fortunately for them perhaps they do not see it …
But their minds are under the rapture. Enchanted by the junk food culture which is their routine. Their strength – their freewill – suppressed and redirected into choices within a spiralling maze. They are heading nowhere fast … unless they awake soon from the malaise … but by then it could be too late. Unless. Unless the sound descends … (Extract taken from 'Ezra in the Modern Day' by Matthew James)
