Confessions (of three men)

Dose One, Shing02, Doc Maxwell, and Kirby Dominant

Scene 1:
(the muse) Gather around, and gather still, I've a tale for you all...
You're young, a timeless tale of three same men, each with eyes and heart to cup a living by, all three sharing vision within vision...
within ticking dial time, now what you'll find face here is not secret, only for you and you alone to lend.

Scene 2:
(the traveller) O 'tis a hot, hot day! Hotter than yesterday, and the day before.
I have crossed many oceans, and various terrains.
Mountains, deserts and plains I had to tame, to at last arrive to this city, which I am yet to discover her name.
Alas, she is vast, spread in four directions in a seasonal fashion, and the mountains skirt around the cityscape like a wall with no escape.
Now in the heart of the city, I see a big hill visible from any corner, and upon it a gigantic white temple:
glowing with might, O what an impressive sight!
Its intricate architecture and grandiose design, I have never seen anything close,
in other lands or heard in lectures, read in documents of recent years.
Enthusiastic spirits crowd the streets with wide-open eyes and ears.
Why haven't I heard of this fantastic location from my peers and fellow travellers?
I must find out more about this city and its culture, my true obejective, a necessity.
'Twill bring me great pleasure, beyond any man's measure...
So let me delve into her flesh of this seductive scene.

Scene 3:
(the architect) Pardon me but I have to say, I couldn't help but hear you guys talking today about the display...
(You mean the temple?)
Precisely!
Now on that same soil, two floods ago, stood a plain hill so beautiful,
where my people would go to gather worship amongst nature and feeling energies flow.
Immaculate view of the whole city, upon the foundation a lone fig tree:
a place for everyone and their families to offer their prayers under consciously.
Each day and every nite provided a light, when the people visited, their voices affected left and right.
Until one day, perhaps through the nite, as I was told,
foreigners from a different land initiated a plan to squat and give investment to this land.
The first offered tokens to help aid the cause for you need funds to keep this landscape looking great,
and surely you need an altar to follow.
The second agreed after his swallow of the fruit that he picked from the tree,
and then suggested nextly to design an icon that would mark this territory here and beyond as being occupied with the commitment to develop this mount to something much more.
Therefore, the third likewise took the previous men aside and suggested to build a temple on the hill.
And before he could finish his sentence, the last offered blueprints, and tools went into place, walls, gates, idol plates and workers who would volunteer to migrate just for a piece of the cake.
Look! They built the temple on our land our ancestors fertilized and are now buried on!
And made the masses believe through reconstruction good fortunes were to come,
O what a disgrace, a sour taste for me and my people who help create,
O what a disgrace to our sacred grounds that nature did not help shape!!

Scene 4:
(the muse) Yay, questions mark our traveller, and yay, regret bodes our architect,
and what of one commands their crooked all, might you wonder what our temple holds?
Within its pillared grin, perhaps out last same man has seen:
he is the merchant, could be he sees it all, where want and need are always met?

(the merchant) I'll make a tax collector wash my feet and that's word!
I'll put him in the dirt before he touch one sheep in my herd.
'Cause I'm a hardcore hustler, independent merchant, sell your mama a quilt your daddy a sea urchin.
Everythang was perfect! Everythang was perfect 'til that white temple was built.
It hangs upon on the hill where they are supposed to be praying but they are obeying the elite,
created a new barter system called currency and it's weak.
The righteous turned ridiculous, philosophy politica, stricter taxation in this brand new nation,
thanks to my informant I know this situation, while the rest of god's creation is on hybernation...

(the traveller) Oh excuse me sir, my fellow brethren, could you tell me anything about that temple?
I am a traveller from the far east. I'm here to study your beautiful culture, and I was struck by that temple...
how it stands in the heart of your city!

(the merchant) Shit, what the hell do I know right, I'm just an independent merchant.

(the traveller) Okay, then maybe we can be friends. As a sign of respect,
let me offer you these special seeds that grow herbal medicine, a gift from my homeland, here, give me your hand.

(the merchant) Good vision, my friend! I see you are not one of them. No need for suspicion!
Well here, let me tell you everything you need to know about the temple...

(the traveller) Hmm I see... you possess sharp knowledge indeed, but now I believe I have found my true purpose of stay in this city.

(the architect) Man, what are you guys staring at in this busy street, don't tell me you're impressed by that devilish architecture that you see!

(the merchant) Shit, not me.

(the traveller) Oh what might you know my brother? We're just enjoying this bright day and site here... Please, share us your insight.

(the architect) Well Brothers, I'm just a native architect here to provide a little intellect,
And if you have a sec, I can provide you with information about this sect.
My spirit flows through each wall that I create, on any landscape giving shape,
with tools I navigate to spread love and praises, can you relate?
My people and I put fourth heart and soul, to bring any mold to life.
The use of a temple is sacred not because of the mortar and stones used to build it,
but because of the people within who don't pretend, yet send a purpose through existing within!
My people did not build that temple over there, look at the glamour that blinds here,
the original purpose has been transformed for many years, desecrating the truth,
by dulling the life that once flowed through the veins of our many creations.
This temple here lacks a nation and suffers from mental starvation, from the body, to the surroundings, to its present foundation!
How could this be a holy place of gathering and sharing of time?
When all the congregation is outside bathing in material sunshine,
See their angles they take, demonstrate, but wait!
Listen to their unholy bell chimes, as they dine and sip fancy wines all the time.
This temple right here is nothing but a living fault line that grows and penetrates to find the smallest of minds...

(the traveller) Well, your language matches our waves, as my people would say.
I'm a foreigner, but let me fill your cup on what I just found out from this gentleman.
This is what I know about the temple and what goes on inside...

(the architect) Well, hell, I'm not surprised a single hair on my chin! I knew that building stood thin, all lavish on the outside but all corrupt on the inside.

(the merchant) So now what do we do? Or what can we do?

(the muse) What do we do? What do they do? What do we do? What do they do?
As three same men spoke, and so they spoke... As three men spoke, and so they spoke... it seemed to when...
and then they confessed:

Scene 5:
(the architect) I must confess; I have a design to take back our ancestors' hill in time.
Here's another peace of my mind I've been working through the independent vines beneath the hillside,
sharpening my tools and thoughts, studying the mighty power of the temple.
I know it will not be simple because much sacrilege has occurred.
Many roads to it have been detoured, ending up in a criminal circle.
I want to use my building of words to serve as a purpose to notify the above surface,
that the temple which looks down on us everyday, does us no service.
We can start by tearing apart all that symbolizes destruction of a true artform,
namely by annihilating the building that houses sinful scorn, vacating it, planting ancient and new life forms.
As told by a wise carpenter: No business should be conducted in my Father's House!
I won't rest until the insulation falls out, from the walls to the halls, by all means,
no pause until this cause has caused all to recognize the flaws.
And until the precious fig tree stands tall with no boundaries,
be gone with their luxuries, extending energies eternally to the original seed.
Brothers, please pray with mec

(the merchant) We need an innovative way to penetrate the situation; I too have a confession.
Part of the information I spoke of before came from infiltration I entered the temple as a priest pouring out libations,
I've seen them trading secrets, my mission brighter than gold,
I gotta free all my people before the story's been told!
We'll rewrite the script before the people can suffer, prevent this evilness,
proceed undercover and execute our plans, 'til the temple no longer stands!

(the traveller) Yes, I believe the time is right to make my confession.
Gentlemen, my true profession is the delegate from the far east empire, under the clandestine mission to investigate the white temple.
Six moons ago, my people were approached by the temple to make trades, and didn't know the truth before opening the gateways.
Now we stand separated from our old days, people divided, misguided, blinded by the trade.
O the greed sees sweet profits from it, and those dark individuals schemes, deals, meals behind curtains.
They have become the power de facto certain to doom the nation we must act now to stop!
As hundreds of years from now more population will be able to travel and exchange ideas freely,
it is imperative that we connect and build a safe bridge firstly with new generations to follow.
So let us work together for such future, kingdom hallow.

(the merchant) Yes, I accept your offer of collaboration! When the time is right, when the next full moon rises in the nite, we shall meet here again.

(the architect) And I am with you as well. And let us not reveal our plans and confessions to other souls until our vision reaches fruition.
Be safe my brothers.

(the merchant / traveller) Be safe and peace be with you and your spirit.

(the muse) And so, the three same men split, went separate ways, back into the masses from which they came.
How many full moons do you suppose it takes to change it all?
Be young all, and be off, off to save your age. It's the sun's turn to set...
again... I'll have you know at last...
There is some beauty in the secret you cannot keep...
And look, might there be a full moon tonite?