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Background soundtrack: Taken (1), A Hard Teacher (2), A Small Measure of Peace (3)
Original soundtrack artists: (1,2,3) Hans Zimmer
Original soundtrack itunes link:
Soundtrack tweak process: (1) cut, (2) cut, -10% speed, (3) cut, -10% speed
Sound effects: tiger roar, rain
Original content source: The Last Samurai (2003)
► If you wish to use the monologue for a non-profit third-party event please give proper credit to the author (SeeBeyondTheScientist) and the original work.
✖︎ This monologue is not eligible for monetization purposes.
History extends before our sins..
events to which we did not partake,
have scrabbled the way to our ends,
our beginning left forgotten, nested, under an aimless ocean
The young bear the distorted pride of the old,
born with honor already engraved upon their world,
the word carved onto the past we share,
making us eager, more than ever before.. if only once more
Who ever looked upon his actions and realized..
in every moment it is his ideals that he sanctions,
each following the path to glory, our drive makes us differ only,
bringing men together in herds, each of us, cursed
Samurai meant to serve,
a student Emperor that is pleaded for his words,
this entity, that can but erase me at a thought or jest,
a life does not need to have any more meaning in itself
But how can a heart comply with such torment,
the future talked about so carelessly…
before these eyes I uncover but misery,
when men dead, with no self-esteem, come to rule over the living
We bow at our precedings,
the conflicts giving us the synergy we need,
and before the end, we bring the final teaching to our doorstep,
one every generation learns, in its last breath
There is no honor in fear, this much has always been clear,
but contemplating the falling tears in the night,
agony shines bright, for the loss of one more we held dear
Yet we fight on, guided by a lone reason,
our strength not arising from contempt,
but from thoughts blood-drenched..
For a survivor defeated, another world will overlap his own,
born in one epoch, trying to find his way anew,
whatever might he attempt, will stem far from true
But a soul that finds its honor in standing up again,
in not letting go, and trying again,
could be a fool-hearty one to behold,
the soul appearing soiled.. to the eyes of another spoiled
“The tiger's eyes.. are like my own,
but he comes from across a deep and troubled sea,”
his ferocity to live roaring out to me,
facing our past and destiny, in these, I find no remedy
The times changing like a hazy breeze,
the tiger strives in the forest of singing swords..
facing the wind, ignoring the wrong chords,
the trees above, bear a thousand one blossoms
“The perfect blossom is a rare thing,
you could spend your whole life looking for one,
and it would not be a wasted life..”
yet the simple act of living has been stained with disdain,
the light lost, into history's dark drain
Years passing by like fading tides,
in each passing era the lessons we learn are but the same,
perhaps in the end, our drive has brought us no gain..
Seeing all this reality,
presses one to change his youthful mind,
and realize, life was never an attraction, to entertain mankind
My soul, has spent its days in silence,
the sound of tranquility revealing its compliance..
but it is in the battlefield that my body has grown,
thrown by force, with but one last resource
My days I know, will come to end the same way
And when I call upon death to meet me again,
like so many others before, I hope he will not neglect to reveal once more..
what all this . has been for
starting from the beginning.
"Perfect, they're all perfect"