Defenestrate The Masses
The Words Of Conrad Miller
“Those once whose intentions were pure Left a legacy for those unsure. From labour to refreshment appeared the cure, But greed pushed the people who wanted more.”Industry creates imagination come to life. it was almost finished. Finishing touches were a flourish to the practical. I have put my life into it, bled for it, longed for it to flash into a flicker of reality.I treasure the times, brief though they must be, with old friends. Companions through the good days, when the Builders strode their purposeful paths to progress. I recall often the short period I spent at the feet of a Builder, in my long absent youth, barely out of a crawl. I was swamped by the notion of the work I had beyond me, much lost and turned around, out of sorts and lost in my mind. I must have simply collapsed under the weight of responsibility I was under at this early time, troubles beyond my age. But along came a Builder. He was similarly under his own weights of responsibility, many chains of office pulling him down, but he found the time to stop and talk to me. We were in the Great Halls, somewhere close to the Basin, out beyond the Wastes, where the Builders took samples, created concepts, developed stratagems. I had found myself an apprentice to a Builder’s Foreman, much the hard worker and demanded similar from his protégés. I was finding it difficult to keep my head above the sinking feeling of frustration and demoralisation. The Builder called me by name.“Conrad? Why so prostrate?” he asked in the voice of a man of import.“It lies too heavily on my shoulders. I cannot take the load.” I replied.“There is nothing insurmountable, Conrad. There are no quips or haggard words I can relay to you. I can simply tell you that without you we simply cannot survive. Not hyperbole. Fact. For you are the one who falls to the ground and rises. You are the one who takes a task and makes it happen. You are the one who drags a Brother to his feet and takes his burden for yours. You are tired because you care. You carry that weight because you choose to. Let you never lose that weight, for upon those shoulders, a world will be created. Conrad Miller, take my hand. I will lift you up this once, but I will never do so again.” I would never and have never forgotten those words. It will be an unforgiving world when it is bereft of me and my ilk.Sometimes I forget myself and feel the world swallow me up also, that I had accepted my fate back when the rot set in. clearly that would never have happened. Not as long as those words sang in my memory, not as long as my creation needed my input. I took a longing look at the near human, blood of my blood, sweat of my sweat, fulfiller of my desires. Its destiny was allied with mine, for I had created it that way. I turned my back and walked, knowing it would be my posthumous salvation.
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