Happy Goes Nothing

All hope of a normal life is lost as the harpoons of death course through the veins multiplying and breeding as they devour and mutate. Yet, there are no tears for the weeper who survives within the stillness of tainted blood that lapping dogs shun.

There are some that say that the cure for the Hiv and Aids virus is here, while others say that the cure for Hiv and Aids is just over there, as those who see no sunlight during the day wallow within the darkness that wishful thinking brings.

Self-pity wants to cover the body like a blanket while anger makes the mind resentful and hateful. But whose fault is it that the monkey caught a cold that developed into a lethal disease that its meat bore, so we are told. And whose fault is it that the eating of this monkey meat passed this ruinous virus to human beings?

Or if not a monkey, it was witch doctors in a well-funded laboratory who cooked up this toxic brew as a method of thinning out the human population to the numbers that they choose. Yes, the poisonous brew stewing in the kettle of death brings fortune to a few and heartbreak and misery to many. But what does any of that matter as life is but a shadow of a shadow of an imaginary shadow that disappears without a whisper.

Happy goes nothing when the blood moon turns into a crystal ball that foretells of a tomorrow that came yesterday. The sheep are herded into a pin and given expensive medications that cure nothing and side effects something that researchers can add to their flow charts of sadness and sorrow.

The prophecies of worlds are dripping from the time capsule of continuance as the blood of the Hiv and Aids infected runs cold and exposed to every form of harmful foreign substance. And who is that considering the protruding lymph nodes that are reflected in the mirror loudly broadcasting their fatal deposits of infection and disease? Is it not the casket that deceives itself as being a living being?

Happy were the days of old. The days long before the cradle of death was conceived and born. In those days, the Stars were very bright and the many Earth-like planets were teeming with blissful light and life. In a moment, there is something and in the same instant there is nothing. From nothing came something, and from something comes nothing. And so, it is.

Herbert Hilliard

Born in Daytona Beach, Florida., on April 18, 1955. Have two sisters, a niece, two nephews, and only one child, a Son, and seven grandchildren. BS degree in Computer Information Systems, Jones Collage, Jacksonville Florida.