Sometimes I feel this aching.

This itching, this cracking.

This ambition is killing me, devouring me from the inside.

Can't help but feel I'm meant for so much more. To approach, then parallel, then exceed the conquests of the greatest conquerors: Napoleon. Alexander. Caesar. To have the world shudder at the very thought of my name, like Mao or Hitler. To carry the fate of an empire in the palm of my hand. To control life and death, right and wrong. To judge and persecute. To destroy and create. To be a part of, and be responsible for, a whole new world, perfect and righteous. To be the god of the time.

Sometimes I get this urge, this unparalleled yearning for greatness. This desire to change. Everything.

Yet trapped I am. I am only human. Encumbered by a rotting society that recognises all the wrong things. That rewards passivity and punishes progress. That prioritises meek survival over excellence. Stagnancy over change. Non-compliance over organisation. Stupidity over true leadership.

Sometimes I feel such rage. Such anguish. Such despair.

Why do people not share my dream?

Has our innate hypocrisy finally turned us against ourselves?

What must I do from here to realise this vision?

My contribution to the world will be more than mere charity or generosity; it will be complete and revolutionary change. I will rise, and I will conquer. I will destroy, and I will create anew. I will triumph, and I will remain. Ordo Chao. Vita More.

Deus Homine.


Hmm.

Pity.

Azazyl

Stench of humanity,
The rot of those fair.
Despair!
Of lost sanity and
Dreams never there.