/lit/ - Literature

>>19841034
Can I get a critique?

The consequences of a rapidly evolving world with little oversight and on purpose sabotage for monetary gain was growing more and more evident with each generation of the Modern Man. No longer was Man able to afford a house and supplement a lifestyle worthy of a single job. Increasingly, Man found himself disconnecting with the world outside for the superficial morality and set of values was starting to become apparent; Coupled with the demoralization brought on by the media's constant filling the nation with stodgy stories of sky rocketing crime, it was no surprise at all that Man had started to lose his once proud identity in believing to aspire than more just his self.

To Darby, there was a simmering rage beneath the thin veneer of a civilized Man that was palpable even to him. So it was no surprise when a world wide EMP was unleashed by a rogue faction of government, that the rage had finally found an outlet to be unleashed upon. It engulfed and completely consumed even the meek. Streets ran crimson with the blood of the fallen and the air was filled with the cacophony of those losing their souls to the dark pleasure of a world with no more restraints.

To Darby, it was no surprise at all that the tensions had finally come to an explosive tipping point and he had prepared for it as best as he could as he wondered through the now made real necropolis of his fever dreams. Seeing the stark brutality of the new world with his own eyes, did not make him wish for the old world. He could not surmise a valid reason that would make sense why but to Darby, it was a chance that when this dark age would be over Man would have learned from his folley and not repeat a generational mistake and let it grow like a cancer again.

His faith in that was secure and immovable like a force of nature, even as he took part in the necessary evil to live. It was only that. Necessary. And only a suicidal fool would dare deny that, only a fool stuck in the decay of the old ways.

As Darby made his way to the highest point in the city, he mused in his battered mind that at least today there was a partial silence, enough to hear his own thought. He climbed the fifty flights of stair with ease, having done so a myriad of times. It only gets easier for him as he built the stamina and muscle. He likened it to Jacob's Ladder. When he finally reached the top, he went to the railing and let the cool wind caress his sweat soaked face like a gentle lover and gazed out at the necropolis. When he was satisfied, he closed his eyes and simply whispered "kyrie eleison," before opening his eyes again and touching the orthodox cross he planted on the railing. Letting God see the world as it is.

And letting God know that Man still believed in more than just His self