The vintage photographs of those who lived in the 1920's, 30's. 40's and 50's are stationed within glass cabinets in the midst of a high school foyer. Some were in the band, others played on the football team, and still others are in poses of laughter with friends. The mascot reflects memories, coaches faces invoke recall, and teachers march emotions to a heightened state. They speak beyond their graves, and those who listen carefully, hear them.
Most of these who were captivated by life, without regard to demise, and oblivious to an end, now sound the words, “it is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart.” Their words are ominous, and their direction is flawless. Their vantage point is with perfect knowledge, and those who look upon them live in continual cognitive content. Their standpoint must be observed as one's own destiny with their position is imperative.
Who shall hear them today? What will they say? Bend the ear closely to the glass cases which hold them. Still all the noises that surround, and carefully listen to their pleas. “Beyond. Beyond. There is a beyond, and that done now will determine your destiny. Beyond. Beyond. There is a beyond.”
Until tomorrow...Why Say More?
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