Apathetic Immersion

Standing in the middle of a busy Cairo squares, in stillness and solitude. Average egyptians rushing by in pursuit of their mandatory achievements recklessly disturb my fixed gaze into the heat of the day. Like puppets they flow into the streets lashed in their ways by the ruthlessness of their masters who in turn are pushed around by the selfishness of their lords who in turn are controlled by those behind sight and common knowledge. I see strings, lots of them everywhere. I know, and the more I do the more apathetic I become. Forced to be involved in a pattern, a crowd of fools, and party of lunatics. Counted one, but I am none. Those helpless waters that flood down hill and push on all that's in its path is only a natural flow downhill. Such chaos is a result of steep inclination towards a past image that was never there nor will ever be; a deceiving image of perfect goodness. An image that is nothing but a mask to all the hatred of a proud race thrusting after the flags of them evil devisions of the fallen. My time is a time of silence, where I would watch and observe but soon there will be a time that is so different than now. A time where words would be spoken through the work of my hands, a message and a rebuke. Time when my flag is raised for all to follow and others to fear. Who would ever think that the silent one will speak so loud; or the still would be so vibrant? But the ways of wisdom is far beyond the understanding of them drunkards, them whom are twice drunk, once by ignorance and twice by deceit. Apathetic I am, for the shallow.. and for now.