Upward Seeking: a ColleCtion

Risen

By Austin Mays

Oh what a day it must have been,

When the world was broken away

From sin.

Light had overcome the dark,

Cutting off its wicked bark.

The war was now won,

More still to be done.

Twelve were sent,

Many more then went.

Death has no sting,

Now that we have the risen King.

Oh what a day it must have been,

When the world was broken away

From sin.

Sparked -

By Austin Mays -

Nights turn into days,

All the while showing different ways.

Ways to perform a certain task,

All while wearing a seemingly different mask.

That was the case for one man,

Who felt that he had no place to stand.

One morning he felt he had enough,

That life had gotten just too rough.

The thoughts which circled within his head,

Only left him feeling more dread.

"Was he evil, were his inner intrusions true,

He tried but never found a clue.

On that morning he felt that he had found a way out,

Getting him away from all the doubt.

With a knife in his hand he started to ache,

As he felt the darkness making him shake.

At a moment the man stopped his behavior,

As he felt the presence of his Savior.

The man felt safe,

As he prayed the prayer of faith.

The darkness was gone,

The battle now won.

Once feeling only nervous,

He now felt a new sense of purpose.

Out into the day he ran,

Ahead of him a new plan.

His Savior had set him free,

From the battle only he could see.

Centuria

By Austin Mays

I am going to tell you a tale. Whether you believe me or not, well that is up to you. Hard

it is to think that so much can happen in so little time, though for the residents of Centuria, this

was never the case.

Yes, this work which I myself have compiled covers the infamous urban legend of the

utopian city in the heights known as Centuria. Particularly the journey of one man, Darren Roe

Alva. A fellow who, because of his faith in things above, saw through the falsity of this thought

to be faultless design.

It all started on a normal day in a normal way. The birds were chirping a singular tune,

pluralizing the notes as they went. Darren was headed to work, where he helped to run the

massive five mile solar panel that powered their lives.

The sky was bright with a luminous glow of blue and pink as the sun rose over the rock

formations. Being in a valley really seemed like a gift. Darren, though certainly not a newcomer

to that land, still was in awe of all the sights in such a primordial way.

Traffic was almost nonexistent within the walls of this sacred temple of a town, being as

transport consisted of magnetic cable cars which moved people from one place to another with

seamless ease. Marco was in a purple colored one, a particular favorite of his.

When the giant panel was in sight, Darren did what he was best at. Jumping off of the transport

train, he latched off his tool kit and began the day's work. Sparks began to fly as the repairing

began.

This was a big day for him as well, being that the promotion he had always wanted was

sure to finally come his way. The job, being head of the whole solar farm, was what every

welder in that day had dreamed of. His interview was in one hour at nine sharp.

Busse Valthrop was a notable business mogul and leader of Sol - On, the company responsible

for powering the city. He was not a man to have his time wasted, which made Darren all the

more nervous. When nine hit on the small digital clock, he got up and entered Busse's office.

The office was pristine, looking as if it had just been cleaned. Busse sat behind his crafted

mahogany desk, looking already not to eagerly impressed. "Why are you half a minute late, you

know I do not like to wait." Darren almost did not utter a response, though to simply say, "I, I

was just....." "Quiet! Sit down and talk your piece."

A lump in his throat, he began to speak, saying, "Sir, after working with this company for

over 10 years now, since I was only fifteen, I want to move up. I want to be a help to the upper

management, be a part of a team making a difference for this city here.

A stout man of fifty some, Busse lifted up his head from the fine table which he had dozed off in

to say three simple words to the young man. Three words no one ever wants to hear. "We shall

see.

"What did it all mean," thought Darren to himself. Why would a meeting so abrupt and

full of vigor end so calmly? These questions accompanied many more within Darren's head as he

exited his boss's office that day.

Later that evening, confused as one would be after such a greeting as that, Darren laid

down for a calm evening. Once his eyes had gone into slumber, the door was busted by a piece

of lumber. At once he was seized without a moment to spare, taken away from the town he

loved.

Waking up from the numbing pain, he noticed a slight heaviness to his body unknown to

him prior. An intercom was in the room, making a buzzing sound as Darren limped slowly

towards it.

Not being one of technology, Darren pressed the button to receive the call. A voice which

at first seemed gravely said to him, "How do you feel Mr. Alva, in your new position that is?"

Darren could tell it was Busse from the tone of his demanding voice. He responded with, "Well

sir, confused is all I can say. I mean, why do I feel so heavy all of a sudden?"

Busse decided to have this conversation face to face. Walking down to Darren's cell, he

opened the door as if to open an office, walking ever so casually inside. "You, my dearest

Darren, are part of a new breed of humanity." Puzzled and misunderstanding, Darren responded

with, "By new breed, you mean...." "I mean that, because of your unique condition, you have the

potential to become the next stage for humanity. There is really nothing more to it."

As the doors to the white walled, glassed covered containment chamber opened again,

Darren was given a suit made from the finest leather within Centuria. Darren was then given

directions on how to exit the facility and also to tell no one of what he saw or heard. He was to

report for work the next day, ready to start a process that would change his life forever.

Getting home that night, he took out an old record holder, filing through it as if to find

some lost artifact. Pulling out a long thread of documents, he spoke quietly to himself one simple

phrase, Why me? As his head hit the pillow and the light slowly dimmed, he questioned all

that had happened on that day. Praying to his Lord, he felt peace wash over him as he fell into a

deep slumber. The day was now done, more still to be sung.

From Here

By Austin Mays

Now to go from here,

Since I have been the one to steer.

Shifting sands and foreign lands,

Always trying different plans.

Now with You at the lead,

I know I will truly succeed.

Lord give me sight,

Brighten up the night.

Once there was only dread,

Now with hope in my head.

Blessed is each day,

With Jesus guiding my way.

Interconnected

By Austin Mays

Oh how connected we are,

To know people both close and afar.

Seeing a world so grand,

Stretching across both sea and land.

God's majesty can be seen,

From the mountainous heights to the waters which gleam.

When light keeps one side awake,

The other is drifting through dreams with little shake.

Differences in culture, ethnicity, and tongue,

All with a similar tune to be sung,

Oh how connected we are,

To know people both close and afar.

Pico: A Tragedy

By Austin Mays

Average day, average way,

When one comes to Littleton to stay.

Large in size yet tiny in stature,

These folks had to be both pitcher and

Catcher.

Dusk to dawn and the other way

Around,

Minute faces had little frown.

One day a woman chose to question

The joy,

Finding what she saw to be no more

Than a toy.

Her name was Ann Valie, a woman of

Smarts,

Having wits about her sharper than

Darts.

A job she held with much grace,

Tying up deals like that of a shoelace.

Now feeling betrayed and without

Sincerity,

She raced for the nearest empty room

For clarity.

Upon entering the room she found to

Her surprise,

A briefcase neatly placed with

Impeccable disguise.

Digging deeper she found a secret,

One which would make her knowledge

Of it a regret.

Running and running she had a plan,

To get the power out of corruption's

Hand.

In a sudden instant the world turned

Sower,

All the while her body losing its power.

Masked men followed her into the

Night,

Causing her much hysteria and fright.

As they held her down to sedate,

She felt as though she was running

Late.

Screams could be heard,

Piercing ears like a high pitched bird.

Scraping the cement as she crawled

On the ground,

The woman in the cell could only make

An eerily soft sound.

With a glance one could easily tell,

These men were her doctors there to

Help in the cell.

She cried with deep bellows,

"Where are my other little fellows?"

"Madame the dream is now over and

Done,

You no longer have to run."

Poor it is when one sees through the

Fiction,

That her story was one of pain and

Friction.

Littleton of coarse was a place,

For those who were deemed a

Disgrace.

To go to when your brain was mush,

Putting you in a silent hush.

Average day, average way,

When one comes to Littleton to stay.

Why Do

By Austin Mays

Why do we build up our sisters and

Brothers,

While forgetting all the others.

Why do we fear?

When He is near.

Why do those in the Light,

Still walk as though in the night.

Why do some churches talk about

Community,

When all they seem to want in the end

Is gratuity.

Why do worry and stress,

Turn believers into a mess.

Why do I who trust in Your name,

Turn towards You to place the blame.

Why don't we who have true belief,

Look to Jesus and breathe a

Sigh of relief.

Deserted

By Austin Mays

Roads are for the travelers they say,

Going about them mostly by day.

For some though,

This is just never so.

There once was a man,

Who scaled buildings while getting tan.

His named was of little purpose,

Seeing as he was only part of a surplus.

Construction was his game,

A unique type of fame.

Today was sad due to the nature of the job,

Making this man who never seemed to frown sob.

Hearing his boss usher him closer,

This man was hoping he was not seen as a poser.

Eyes gleaming and eyes that shined,

The boss certainly looked refined.

"Hello Worker 9509,

Please be seated.

As you can see we have run out of time,

The project has become heated."

Projects were a construction man's dream and fear,

Something they held more dear.

When one came crashing down,

It made them look like a clown.

A wanderer by nature this one was,

Leaving little a trace to create a buzz.

Construction was easy for a few,

Though for him it always felt hard to ensue.

Broken inside he began to depart,

Ripping away pieces of his heart.

This job was everything,

Even helping him give his fianc the proper ring.

"What shall I do now without a job,

Clock's quickly whizzing by?

Should I start to rob,

Or just tell my wife a lie?"

9509 knew his place,

As a worker of disgrace.

Having messed up before,

He did not know what was in store.

Highways normally are pitch black,

Causing many to lose track.

9509 was just like this,

Losing his way in a sudden bliss.

Going of a path was common with this man,

Having always felt he had the better plan.

Being strong in the faith at such a young age,

His belief went south as years turned the page.

Scared and alone with his headlights out,

9509 quickly left his car to pout.

As his kneels hit the dusty ground,

He could feel himself bound.

"Lord, I know I do not come to You often,

As I have more than once lost my way.

I pray that my fears and doubts soften,

As I recommit myself to You this very day."

Prayers continued into the night,

Suddenly making 9509's perspective bright.

No longer was he a prisoner of the land,

Now being back in his Father's hand.

A Moonlight Prair -

By Austin Mays

(When evening appears, you best be sayin' your prayers.)

Night always has its calm and somber feeling. This was not one of those nights. Rustling

was all that could be heard as a startled woman no more than twenty could be heard running

rapidly through the tall prairie grass.

What was she running from you might ask. Well, this particular night was one filled with

suspense and terror as none other than the Moonlight Prair had found the woman and was

chasing her through the vast expanse. Screams and shrieks could be heard emanating from the

young woman as the Prair caught up to her.

Now, legends are told of such an occurrence as the one I am about to divulge to you the

reader. This particular one involves an outlaw, some prairie symbols, and one odd occurrence

after another. Are you ready?! Here we go.......

The prairie seemed all too quiet as Philip the Hound rode down it on his horse and saddle

that day. The beating Midwest June sun made the ride none to enjoyable, but a refined bandit

such as him was all to use to set backs like this.

Now about the journey at hand. See, Philip had made quite a name for himself as the

baddest outlaw of Stalks County. Taking almost two full years and many investigations, he was

finally captured for his misdoings. So why the hunt then? Well, see the law men gave Mr. Hound

a choice. Either he would investigate the strange occurrences happening lately for them, or he

would be sentenced to life in prison. It was his choice.

Of course you can see which he chose. Having chosen to investigate, though, he was

quickly regretting it. "Darn heat, and I reckon I ain't even been ridin more than four hours. Why

didn't I just take the gavel?"

Wandering for a bit more, Philip came upon a strange looking symbol in a clearing

fashioned from some prairie grass nearby. Jumping off from his horse and picking the small

symbol up he shrugged and said, "Never seen nothin like this before. Now why would something

as obscure as an eye symbol be out in the middle of the prairie?"

In an almost instantaneous fashion, he jumped to a startled as a loud rustling could be

heard from behind him. Seeing it to be just a bird, he angrily rustles the grass, scaring the bird

and sending it packing. Embarrassed for being such a coward, he silently continued on his

journey until nightfall.

Questions began to roll through Philip's head as he set up camp for the night. What was

that strange symbol and why was it so intricately placed within the clearing? Shaking his head of

this, he laid down to catch a few Zs before the sun completely fell below the earth.

Sooner than later the sun was gone and Philip was still asleep. A soft rustling could be

heard from a nearby patch of grass. The brushing like sound grew ominously louder and soon

woke Philip up in another startled fashion, though this time he was ready.

With his six-shooter in hand and a heart for action, he lunged in for a fight. A dark

cloaked figure, none other than the infamous Midnight Prair, had that idea too and came up from

behind in a surprise attack. After some struggling, Philip was able to get the hood removed

finally, revealing a young woman no more than twenty.

This woman had matted hair, a spaced look in her eyes, and a smile that would send

shivers down anyone's mind. With a short and brief breath, Philip posed the question to her, "A

woman, but why? Why would you murder the other women?"

Scratching her head and banging the harsh prairie ground, the woman explained, "I was

simply acting darling, it's what I do. Playing games in the dead of night. No harm done, the

women were all me. Why else would the screams be so in sync?"

Philip looked confused and distraught as he went to grab the obviously delirious woman.

Upon trying to apprehend her, she lunged at him with great defense. After he deflected the best

he could her attacks, dust began to collect in the air surrounding them.

As the dust began to settle into oblivion, Philip noticed that the fighting had stopped. No

longer was the woman in her usual spot. She had all but vanished, leaving behind only the same

eye symbol made from prairie grass which Philip had found earlier in the day.

Puzzled even more than before and with no trace of the mystery left, Philip made for his

horse and started on his merry way towards the moon's light. A new start was ahead of him, far

from the strange occurrences of Stalks Country.

A Persistent Knock

By Austin Mays

Blaring heat and protruding sweat were all too common among the folks living in Stalks

County. Simple living never felt so tough. Prairie fires mixed with dehydrated livestock made

this county a beacon for the brave and a warning sign for the others.

Within this vast landscape stretching 20 miles wide was an old farm house ran by a

young maiden. Evelin Green was her name, a woman whose reputation made for quite the story.

Things were not always as they seemed in the quiet house nestled in a valley.

As stated prior, Evelin was a woman of somber taste, never really seeking outside

attention. Her doors were old, her floors creaked, and the rusted wire fence would send anyone

packing. Yes, rumors and legends certainly spun like webs on a lamp post, of that young maiden

in the valley.

In reality though, she was nothing more than an old soul. A kind lady who tended to keep

to herself, not wanting to bother anyone with trouble. This was until one strange day, that is,

when intrusion came a knocking.

It all began on a hot July afternoon, when normally the crops were high and the ground

dry. Walking outside to check on her beans and chickens, she began to hear what sounded like

footsteps coming from a corn field nearby. Grabbing her rifle, she ran inside and barricaded the

door.

A sniffling sound almost like a sneeze came from outside the tiny home, making Evelin

nervous yet fueled with adrenaline. A knocking sound began to persist on her door, harder and

harder until she shouted at the source of it. Quietness returned to the air, with a sense that all was

well again.

Solace was all but a facade for the poor lady in the valley, with the knocking resuming

shortly after. Evelin was hunkered under her dining table, screaming at whoever or whatever was

out there, "Stop this madness now, I am warning you!" She was now only waiting for the door to

finally lose ground and collapse, leaving her vulnerable. After hours upon hours of constant

knocking, all was again quiet as she began to breathe healthily again.

Movement seemed to be void from the youth, as she found trouble in standing up

properly. Crawling across the wooden floor, she managed to reach the door. Pressing her ear up

against it, she could not hear any type of sound from the other end. With bravery back in her

bones, she jumped up and opened the now busted contraption.

Peering around both corners of her house, Evelin could not see a single person. Only

footprints on the ground and scratches on the door were left behind. The tracks left behind

seemed to lead to a vast expanse of prairie. This confused Evelin, who simply could not explain

the meaning behind it all and decided to turn in for the night, seeing as pursuing the trail at night

would most likely not be safe.

Sleep was tough for Evelin that evening, as even the tiniest sounds would make her now

squirm. She could only manage a measly three hours before finally getting up a little past five. It

was time to hunt this strange encounter.

Positioning the door back into its proper spot before she left that morning, Evelin

happened upon a note shoved into the lining of the frame. Opening it she read aloud these words,

"Wasn't that fun, our little exchange last night. Farewell Evelin, until we meet again my love."

Fear came rushing through her body as she read the note a few more times before finally

dropping it on the hard floor. "How could this man know my name, having never given it out to

anyone," thought Evelin to herself in silence. Having started to freak out with anxiety following,

she grabbed her suitcase and decided it better to just depart completely. It was time to leave

Stalks County for good.

With her little house now behind her and the world ahead of her, Evelin had never felt

more alive. Questions revolving around who that man was and what he wanted were all but

evaporated, with her new life awaiting her. That once lively home now lay vacant, with not a

peep uttered or a knock heard.