Alone
She had tried. Tried locking them out but instead trapped them inside. They were everywhere. Lurking in the deepest corners of her mind, whispering to her. Muttering secrets that should never be spoken of.
There was no freedom from the inner demons that tortured her very soul. No escape from the prison she had created.
Her mind was a terrifying place to be. The thoughts she had were a gruesome picture of a constantly raging battle. War. You could hear the cries of the soldiers as they lay bloody dying.
It was once beautiful, the example of perfect innocence. But now it was destroyed. Desolate. No one dared venture to it, afraid of what they’d find.
“Don’t get to close,” they’d say. “Or the monsters might attack you too.”
So she was left to fight alone. To fend for herself. And slowly but surely, she lost the war.
Caring Friends
If only I had friends
That cared enough
To see that I was
Hurting.
Maybe they could
Have kept me
From dying.
They could have stopped
The blood pouring
From my wrists.
Maybe if they had
Looked closer
They could have seen
The tears flowing
Like a waterfall
Down my face.
If only people
Really wanted be know
The truth
When they asked
'How are you?'
On Sunday morning.
That would indeed
Change the world.
The Change
We must be the change when there is no one else willing to go.
I think that’s the sad thing about this; there isn’t anyone going.
If we don’t speak truth then who will?
Certainly not the liars.
Be the change you wish to see happen.
There is one who strengthens us, who is with us always.
Trust Him, and let him lead you.
You’ll make it then.
The Beast Within
She stood there, facing the darkness, fear gripping her chest. Another scream ripped through the air. Another life had been lost. More fear. More pain. The secrets had worn her to the core; to her last nerve. They almost broke her.
She knew, deep down, somewhere, that what they told her were lies. That nothing had been true. But doubt had begun to creep into the depths of her mind. They had shown her proof. Proof that could crumble and sling her into oblivion. Another part of her, the sensible, reasonable part, argued. Any proof can be faked. But what if it wasn’t? What if they weren’t lying?
No.
She couldn’t let them break her. Couldn’t let the sacrifices she’s made be for nothing. Because if she believed them, then all her remaining hope and love, would fall into oblivion with her. She hadn’t prayed since she was little, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. So she squeezed her eyes shut.
“God, I don’t know if you’re even there anymore but please, help me. Help me make it. ”
A sickening stench filled her nose. A scent of nightmares, rotting flesh mixed with vomit. Her head swam as a growl sounded nearby, her eyes snapping open. The beast itself stood there, looming over her, tensed for an attack.
She stopped breathing. Air lodged inside her throat as she tried to remember how to scream.
So she ran.
She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, tripping and stumbling over her own feet.
Her heart pounded, and she forced herself to move faster.
To safety.
To home.
But she knew that no matter how fast she moved, that the beast would always outrun her.
Every. Single. Time.
Every possible plan and thought raced through her mind as she ran down the darkened hallway that she had faced moments before. Heading straight into danger.
To death.
To evil.
It enveloped her while the beast crushed the ground behind her. Tempting her with its sickening feeling of slipping away into oblivion.
The Gifted
“But even in the most extreme portions of the cruelest and evil instance, the light prevails as a glimmer of hope that shines brighter than ever before and cannot be shut out, for it’s superbly persistent... The light of hope none shall break and will recompose a soul which will then seal all evil spirit’s fate.”
- “Good vs. Evil,” by David Wagoner
There is no cure for it. It destroys lives. Communities. Faith. Family and friends turn into enemies.
And yet, what was thought to be extinct is not gone completely. Though the world burns, and lives are ruined, hope still survives.
But without action to keep it alive, hope is dead.
What began as a spark has turned to flames. Warriors have risen from the ashes. Our hope still burns.
They will not crush us.
There are powers at play here even the Wise can't understand. They have tried to win. They have attempted to put out the fire.
We will forever stand strong.
They will not crush us.