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.