Monday, November 12, 2007
Opening my eyes to the dusty early morning light. I roll over and contemplate the day ahead. I'm so tired of fighting, the never ending battles within my mind, the relentless onslaught of a raging war.
All my life I've been searching, going on long arduous journeys which end inevitably in heartache and loss, more grief. Searching for a peace, the ever elusive treasure. Perhaps it's not mine to seek. Should I just give up?
The young man walks through the marketplace and sits and listens to the stories being told by the wise men. They talk of young children born with a curse, a curse which renders them motherless and fatherless, and all through their lives, they live with the stain of that curse, a black mark on their soul. They are shunned by society, they are spat upon by others - they neither deserve life, nor do they deserve death. They live in that twilight sphere of unending pain.
I am a child of the curse.