My pupils flicker in and out of dilation as insomnia as delirium conceives within the weak frame I now bear. The taste of gunpowder is fresh on my tongue; a thoughtful souvenir from another oblivious kiss from death. The grave dances inside my narrow mind as another seeping wound comes un-bandaged. My soul aches with discomfort because my mind fills with the gleam of the knife shoved deep within the back of my best friend, my beloved, my life. My hair a mess and voice is hollow as I approach the silhouette in the distance. Wrong needs to be made right. A thin veneer of delusion brings thick smog to my already sporadic vision. Reaching the destination, my breathing becomes heavier and heavier, gunpowder never was a good compliment of asthma. In my right hand trembling fingers tap anxiously on a wood handle looking for a splinter, as my pulse quickens with the thought of avenging the cancer as soon as possible. In the other hand jingle a few nails, laden with rust, imbedded deep with disease; which seems nothing more than triviality.
Static was all that seemed left as once again turmoil grabbed my throat, squeezing hard. I coughed up blood which only widens the now creeping grin on my ashen face. Lifting my gaze I scream with a hoarse and raspy voice, “Get off that cross! You have no right to be on that. Let me die!” Sweat trickles out of my forehead burning my eyes as it mixes with soot. Blindness would have been an improvement. I stagger to my knees as guilt gnaws away like leprosy. As my entire surroundings spiral into nothing I am suddenly stopped and put to the ground. Thick fingers scrape the cataracts off of my eyes. Regaining consciousness I am lost within a whirlwind of blood and fire. His eyes burn through me, everything in me convulses as a soothing love bursts forth out of His eyes surging deep into the most desolate crevices of my inner man. We lock eyes for what seems decades leaving me speechless with tears pouring down my face, washing the soot away.
His hand, stronger than death and gentler than a whisper, raises my broken frame up from a near fetal position. Eyes still locked He said one thing to me, “I love you.” These words entered through my ear canals into my brain and exploded. A war rages against the torrent of lies I had for so long called home. The single phrase pierces the deepest part of my spirit maiming every cliché I had constructed and mauls every thought that held my heart with a wrought iron leash. Mere syllables poured forth a warm peace that surrounded my fractured and brittle heart. As fire surges through frame once torn by decay, Eden seemed to be reborn within the deepest parts. With tears in His eyes he grabs me and the blood dripping off of Him flows onto the scars and boils that once marked my identity. As I am covered within this eternal embrace my back aligns and head lifts. Together we create a fountain of tears intermingled with blood. A stream trickles from us springing flower blossoms forth out of the rocky foundation we stand on. Dawn peaks her head through the now blurry distance as the opus of Life carols through the faintly blowing breeze.
The LORD looked and was displeased that there was no justice. He saw that there was no one; he was appalled that there was no one to intervene; so his own arm worked salvation for him, and his own righteousness sustained him. Isaiah 59:15-16
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