The war against hell was fought long and hard. Even humans engaged in the battle. Every nation, every colour and religion united to bring an end to the evil spawn. Millions died. Millions more were maimed and blinded in body and soul. And yet more millions lived with unending grief. But the war was won.
On Olympus the gods rested. Their faces were exhausted, but the lines of worry and pain deeply etched were softening. They reached for the ambrosia placed before them, with weary hands.
One god who loved the humans more than the rest looked round at the assemblage.
“They fought with us and suffered much. Their hearts are weary with their ordeal and they are filled with grief”.
The mother spoke. “Women still grieve for their lost children and men. Men grieve for their lost wives and children. And their burdens continue”.
War put down his flagon. “They fought well. Their determination was relentless”. But he shrugged. “But now they are empty. All they see in their minds are blood and graves”.
There was silence as the gods pondered. Then a young goddess spoke up. “They need something to lighten their hearts. To replace grief with joy”.
The god who loved humans looked at her. “Do you have something in mind?”
The young goddess answered eagerly. “Children are their hope. Let us send children who will fill their minds with colour and music, love and laughter to blot out the bad memories. Singers, poets, artists – lovers”. She paused. “To remind them that life is beautiful. Restore their hope”.
“That is a wonderful idea” the god who loved humans said.
The father who had said nothing nodded in agreement. The gods themselves entered into the joy of finding the children to restore happiness to a stricken people. So the love generation was born.
On earth a government was agitated. Not being directly involved in the war, their land had not been bombed, their citizens had not died in their beds, been left homeless or nearly starved, but they had also fought and everyone in the country had been brought under military control. The government had enjoyed a power it did not wish to surrender.
The young were freedom loving, but in a different way to their parents who had fought for freedom. They were creative, innovative. The government wanted things to remain the same. So they engineered an unnecessary war to bridle the young under military control.
And the gentle people, the loving people, the artists, and clothes designers, the poets and singers forced to fight, fought back using their gifts. They painted, and wrote and sang and mocked, and true to their parents before them, fought for their freedom. A revolution of artists. The war generation and the love generation immortalised in history.
Copyright 2015 Prayerwarriorpsychicnot