An audacious anarchist once stood before those who queried the factualism of their foresight that they all never knew. He clutched his saber so seditiously from his tattered sheath and plunged it deep within his cogitation so that others would see the malcontent depths that engulfs their ways. The perils that laid at bay for he laughed them all away, for all those who stood listened with such intent that his consciousness awakened those that saw the perils that were hidden in plain sight. Those were no longer led by the pack of wolves that left a corpuscles stench. The sheep they once were, now they were real men. An audacious anarchist once stood before the wolves and sheep and all the men stood so full of spirit as the audacious anarchist could finally see a purlieu before them that the foresight never allowed them to see. Now they clutch their sabers and plunge it deep within their own anarchist souls; so now the audacious anarchist could slumber and awaken to find the wolves hidden within the darkness of the trees. The land now belonged to all the men as they will never be the irrational sheep.
I can feel the eyes locked on me like prey. Waiting and stalking for the right moment to attack. A savage has laid its eyes upon me as if I am fresh meat in an open field of prey, waiting to pounce in the right opportunity to feed their hunger of flesh. Yet, the savage reverts to the caveman as his undeveloped cortex lessens his decision making. He begins his approach as he wants nothing more than to pick his prize and drag his meat away. The classic courtship no longer exists, the delicate swooning of a woman is neglected as savages and cavemen squander thru the endless dens of possible prey. Evolution has returned to an era where sex is the relationship and the relationship is sex. Savage love is what prevails in this time and for love, love is now nothing but mindless games. Men armed with their swords on guard to challenge the next savage that stumbles their way. The debauchery of unforeseen hope that men will evolve back into the true classic man that once walked among the women courting each one with class that is truly deserved. John Vanderlyn 1804 “The Death of Jane McCrea.”
“There is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords