This is not a picture of a fair maiden in distress and the grandeur and bravado of her knight in shining armour. No! this is quite the opposite, of a man, a chaotic and destructive case of not really caring about anything. A man who lived in the shadows for fear of failing and never got up for fear of falling. A man surrounded by promise and stood on potentials yet some how managed to turn the ambience of Eden to the cacophony of an Armageddon. Destruction loomed heavily like a rain cloud in the spring and the sound of thunder and flashes of lightening seemed to hold no more fury than the already ravaging sea and quaking mother earth.
The defeat before the war even began, a shameless surrender was his first hand and indeed his only hand, he had slumped to his dying bed waiting for his own very breath to cease and the blood in his veins to turn cold. A corpse already in his mind, he had many a time pictured his own death and by this time he was accustomed to the smell of his decaying flesh. The stench of his vomit and feaces still strong in the air as his senses were dulled by the ever increasing density of ammonia in the air, indeed he was a living-dead.
The fresh breeze on the horizon held no promise for him and the hope of a last stand or a grand stand or any stand at all was a lost memory. He waited.
She, yes there had to be a she in this story. This ‘she’ had had enough of lies and deception. She was through with letting herself be the victim and she had every right to feel and act that way. She had always wanted more from life and was willing to give more, sometimes more than was required of her and what did she get in return? She had dried up her fountain of tears and her heart had frozen over with stone cold bitterness and red hot fury. Never again would she fall prey to lies, the same lies that had scared her severely and severally. The evidence was visible and the marks proof of the hardship she had experienced all because she wanted to live her life and do so to the fullest. She was no fool, at least not anymore and the words uttered from her mouth, a testament to the feelings her heart tried to conceal.
It is only fitting to say that one finds redemption at the least likely of places and the feeling of salvation, like a breath of fresh air to the suffocating. They found it and kicked against each other and against the wave of emotions running through their veins. It did not happen all at first sight as a lot of stories would tell it and it did not happen because it was duty, a nurse to a dying man. No! it was neither, but when the hand of fate dragged them to the same path, the will power which they had consciously built and fortified over decades with blocks and bricks of hatred and bitterness, callousness and irresponsibility, fell apart just as they looked away from each other.
Now, even when the inevitable end draws nearer and the cold hand of death grips firmly, the smile that lingers on their faces even as it is moistened with tears, their tears, you know that the power which has drawn these resolute souls out of their individual abyss must have a celestial dimension and the time spent, no matter how brief it was, was indeed worth a life time. The heavens cried that day too as the rain clouds poured forth her content with reckless abandon and the seas, likewise roared the covenant shared by these two. The covenant of love so deep that the pain of a hot piercing blade was no pain compared to the cry of a loved one.
No more pain, no more destruction.
All is well, all is beautiful.
All IS
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