FREEDOM IS SLAVERY:
Four legged creatures roam and gaze
on the pasture of heavenly grass in daylight. Raising their heads upward with
the calm whooshing of wind fills them with a peaceful serenity. The ground has surface. The sky is blue. The
sun shines and reflects on the puddles of liquid substances waiting to be
swallowed by the soil. Everything in nature is balanced. Nothing seems out of
the ordinary because every day the same process is repeated. They’re enjoying
the portioned land that is divided by a wired barrier. They follow a circular
pattern of movement, mooing is the only music that can be heard within miles.
But the closer and closer the path becomes apparent, the industrious metal
monster ahead opens and shuts its doors to the assembly line of victims.
Beings that have been regularly
visiting the crowed of animals have earned quite a reputation. They all look
almost identical, except for minor detailing here and there. They walk on two
legs and have exemplified power among the creatures. In hand, they hold metal
rods that cause great confusion. Whispered throughout their so called community,
allowed them to know that if ever came across one of those, best thing to do is
nothing. By that time it would be too late and not worth any effort in trying
to make a difference in your destined future.
They go about, side by side. The pleasant texture underneath
their hooves transitions drastically, leaving tracks on manured ground. The
cows blindly follow the beings with rods into a place that is clouded with grey
particles. Dirty and unsanitary. The smell of air is overwhelmed with a stench
that has never come in contact with their nostrils; Unable to realize the blood
that has begun to stain their coats of fur. The blood of what used to be cousins,
brothers, sisters, wives, husbands, daughters, and sons. Each step brings them
closer to the same place in which previous generations have fallen.
The fences become tighter and narrow toward one entry
without an exit in sight. Only a way in but no way out. Slowly they inch their way inward, raising
their heads upright, eyes half opened, unsure of what’s to happen. It’s
becoming harder to breathe with the smoke and smog taking breathes away. The mouth
of the monster opens and eats them. The moment they crossed that thin but yet
so thick wall, their presence become obsolete. The purpose they lived for is
wasted away in the mechanics and machines that await them in the dungeon of doom.
The carcasses of fellow mates hang in a disturbing manner. Grotesque and inhumane
the disfigured forms have become. It’s not normal. It’s disgusting.
The entrance, the tiny hole, in comparison to the size of
the building shuts behind them. The sunlight is gone. The skies are no longer
blue, rather black and made of metal material. The ground is no longer
pleasant. The mooing is no longer music, but cries of despair and fear.
