A door opens, A door closes.
Tragedy occurs but on one knows what caused it. Down in the deepest reaches of
the abyss of the mind. A sunken place, a fallen place governed only be the
ever-present law of time. I reside here, I live here and I am pretty sure that
one day I’ll die here. In this blackened world, chaos ensues. No light or dark,
no night or day. Just the pre-occupation of this endless sense of pain. Those
who can’t fight or are simply unwilling will end up becoming victims of the
mindless killing. For those who survive their fate is still uncertain, as they
could go on to believe that their purpose was bigger than those who are dead,
only to realise that eventually they all meet the same end.
They say that vengeance breeds
justice, to which breeds only more vengeance and traps anyone it can in the
endless cycle of hatred. A life that could leave someone very lonely and
loveless. I fear that the hatred and rage have consumed the last of my
humanity, overwhelming me, pushing me to the point of no return: insanity. Forget the pain, forget the hate. I used
to repeat this hoping that I haven’t sealed my fate. Forget the accusations of
my mother on the topic of my dead father and faint-hearted little brother,
remembering that the blame is fuelled by grief and that I should be tougher.
Forget the slanderous statements I shouted at the whereabouts of God in my time
of need yet failing to remember the moments where he forgave my every evil
deed. Forget the emptiness and all-consuming hate, I must find a source of hope,
the very thing that has plagued me to this very date. Remember times of love
and sorrow, the lively nature of the present and the most eager-awaited
tomorrow.
Despite all the remembering
and forgetting, the pain remained and became an irremovable stain. A constant
reminder of all the struggling and trying that all ended up in vain. As I sat
on the earth, waiting to die, I heard a voice, a whisper in the dark that has
forever altered how I view my life.
“Heed these words, Struggler.
Struggle, Endure, Contend,
Survive!!!
For it is the will to struggle
and live that makes up the sword
Of the one who challenges the
strength of
Fate and her allies.
The will to struggle is the
very fabric of the one who refuses
At the sight of the darkness
to lay down and die
Never forget these words”
This message from the dark,
awoke my will to live and suddenly everything didn’t seem so bleak and stark. I
remembered the fact that when I had no one, I always had pain. However instead
of crippling me, it made me strong. Although I am not the perfect human, my
knowledge of the darkness that breaks seemingly invincible men is vast and has
rid me of the need to belong. Yet I know now that I do not struggle alone and
that He knows of my pain and that he alone is the force that keeps my mind
afloat.
“Struggle, Oh Struggler” is
what I repeat to myself now, Struggle till you can struggle no more.
Points: 407
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