The Heritage of Hunger
The Heritage of Hunger This city, steeped in heritage, flows with the ceaseless current of life’s struggle; its ghosts, undying, unmoving, play with the flame’s beckon, gamble with the stake of living. Pride rests only in the hands of the deserving; they wash the talisman of tradition again and again, and sip its sanctified water as if salvation were served in droplets. Glass, stone, and brick— their caress is an endless game of the Infinite. From the dust of the city to the jungle’s edge, men reach the lip of the abyss, half-mad, demanding not wisdom now but the plate of rice. At the last line of the pavement, stands the shameless, the unconquered, holding life’s heritage like a new spring, proud of inventions that make man a tool and rights a mechanism, yet never crying out in grief. Civilization’s ruin— it never dreamt tradition could cause so much harm; history will mount its back and ride through unbroken centuries on the pure current of time. ...