Alone among the Rain
Though the rain shall pour and I may sit alone atop a bench in an empty park. I have my dreams, my imagination and the pages I hold in my hand. Pages that are to be written as I wish. To be read as I mean them to be read.
Though this be an empty moment, a shallow grave for many thoughts. I shall continue thinking, being, doing. I shall live in the rain if I must, a constant wash of my suffering. I sit between the darkness and light, as do you.
In a struggle to lean one way more than the other and sometimes I do. Sometimes the demons grasp my ribs and pull me. Sometimes the angels hold my heart and I allow such an embrace. I know demons be thy enemy, no matter their words.
But I am but a human. A soul torn from the eyes of god set upon this earth to fight. To win my way to my everlasting love. To raise up my wings and fly or set down my feet and walk. It is I who designs the story I read.
It is I who sits alone among this cold night and it is I who chooses to remain silent in tears.
Tonight, I sit alone, my story in hand and pen in thought. Tonight, I shall edit that which I shall repeat no more. I shall read my story, cover to cover though I shall cringe in much of what I read. But I shall not redact any words, any characters.
I will merely learn from them, I will edit my character for the future. For I wish not to be the enemy of mine. I need not be the enemy of my own heart. I shall stricken my ways and write up better chapters. I shall listen well in the light and fight hard in the dark.
Though I may be alone in the battle of my own. I will give no grace to the wicked and no pity to the good. I shall stand on my feet, wings spread and eyes forward. I shall take my ink and write that which is best, though it may hurt.
Though much sacrifice shall leave me in a desert alone, wandering for answers. I shall keep my mind, my soul intact with efforts of good thought, good intentions among others. Though my dreams may swell in a hollow space alone.
They have me and I them. This bench, this rain, this cold and solitary night, is what shall be the beginning of revolution of my heart.
Do you think we spend enough down time alone, learning of ourselves and adjusting our character to better and heal ourselves?
More thoughts to be captured and read by the mind in, A Man's Traveled Heart
Coming soon, The Bleeding of Words
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