He waited there in the blistering cold,
As he saw life’s fragile textures unfold.
Where the voices in his head grew louder and louder
Could it not be? He was without bother.
On this long, soulless journey he had to ask, “Was the right path taken?”
For many have forged their way to a path they had soon mistaken.
Was it their faith that drove them there?
Was it belief?
Or
Was it the something as profound, yet fallible and unruly as their animalistic urges to simply survive their grief?
A saint is not without darkness,
And a sinner not without hope.
Then why is it that we’re tempted to such a miscreant slope?
To believe in Good, we must believe in evil,
To know of Heaven, we hear of Hellish upheaval.
To walk a path that leads in hope of somewhere,
Only to end up trudging on a trail of our worst nightmare.
We know of man, who’s lithe and weak when alive,
but is stiff and cold when death thrives.
At times, moments seem like centuries
And years seem mere fragments of a second,
Too much for his taste he had finally reckoned.
His bouncing finger is what told him he was alive,
For a few more seconds he only wanted to survive
He heard the roars “the war is over, we’re free”
And at that very moment he felt Knightly.
He did what any soldier would’ve done who was misguided,
And just as he came, he left un-abided.
Before darkness covered his guise
He whispered with his last sighs
Revelation 21:4 ~ “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor cries”.
