The joys of the lukewarm abyss

When we live, and feel the sensations of life pulsing through our being, we seem to need continuity of it all. Each breath begs another, every heartbeat wants at least one more to follow.

Though it doesn't occur to us while we have hopes, dreams and ambitions, this innate demand for perpetual experience is a hindrance.
As surely as we think and feel, while bumbling about in what we call our lives, we see so many things in this realm that are simply not right, and absolutely untenable. Injustice on a grand cosmic scale, distilled and focused with extraordinary precision, burns into our cores, giving rise to brief courage inside us, and a zeal to fix whatever we can, to set balance and sacred harmony back upon it's holy pedestal.
Then... then, comes the reality of our condition. Just as we are braced for the dash, our knuckles white, teeth gritted, minds resolute... our frail mortality dares to interupt us, a crass voice cutting through our inner prayer. Might we try a different approach, and save our lives, that we may enjoy the fruits of our altruistic determination? Of course, the answer is always a shameful resignation, and a whittling away of our dignity. So it goes, all of our years, until we perish, regretful and empty.

This, in it's strange dualistic essence, is what empowers those of us discarded by the universe. Were we to retain any concept of preservation, any dreams for a future, our hands would be stayed, and the taunts of our failures would drown out the songs of our inner pride.
We dead, we misty appartions of a forgotten realm, our power is greater than the strength of all the living combined. We cannot be destroyed, for we are uncreated. With no future, no past, our emptiness leaves a void that will swallow every foe, along with their vulgar cries and vain assumptions.

They can no more strike us down than they can capture the shadows of days past.

We are approaching ever nearer, you of the venomous imbalance. We shall bring you over to death with us, and feed upon you again, once you are of a substance that will sate our long deprived hunger.