Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Walls on the Way

Custom User Avatar
More by this author
Too often in my life,
I feel as if I am but a messenger boy during the tragedies of war
Whose sole purpose is to remain alive.
How am I to save a life if I am but an idle corpse on the road?

Those that lead me know the way.
They tell me to carry their commands,
Yet have neglected to train me in their teachings.
They have given me my destination,
Yet withheld my path.

I have heard of the way from passer-bys.
Their own adventures tell of true horrors,
Yet contain the answers to any uncertainty.
Now I will carry these tales,
With a prayer invested into their truth,
On my way.

As I forge my path,
I find walls.
I have been told to avoid such intruders.
Following my orders,
I carve my path around them.

As I journey on,
I find these walls to continue in a series.
Some are taller.
Others bear great width.
Continuing my quest,
I bypass each.
As my journey reaches its height,
I approach yet another of my looming foes.
I trek around the looming beast.
And trek.
And trek.
As I continue,
I come to the realization that I will be unable to endure the wall’s length.
I am forced to confront myself and my foe’s daunting strength.
With neither training nor tool,
I attempt to scale the beast.
I lack the strength to raise myself.
My arms have never been strained,
My legs never scarred.
I have no way to slay this beast,
No ally to call upon.
All I possess is the knowledge of the coming night
And the darkness it will bring.
And it comes.
And it leaves.
And it comes.
And it leaves.
I cannot move forward.
I cannot turn back.
I am but a duck sitting on the water,
Waiting for the predator to come.
And He will.

I hear Him now.
I see nothing but His cloak.
I feel nothing but His soul-freezing chill.
I know the impending fate,
Though I can see Him not.
I hear the clink of the sword
As He draws it from its sheath.
My joy is gone.
My hope is gone.
Soon I will be with them.
He raises His blade
Only to drop it at my throat.
In this darkest hour,
As all the pains of life reveals themselves.
Yet, just as it arrives,
It is gone.
He offers me His hand.
As I take hold,
He and I,
Death and His newest son,
Rise from the ground,
Beginning our journey to whatever comes next..,
Be it Heaven, Hell, or anything in between.
For because of this impenetrable wall,
I have met Death’s cold embrace.




Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!




Site Feedback