M1D92012 – The Confinements of Guilt

The lack of light in this space is damaging. The faces that linger in the corners of this caliginous box are blurred, bearing the same expression, bodies meek and appear poorly drawn. What is this strange dimension I’ve found myself deep in the middle of? A small rectangle window next to a steel door catches my eye but I’m hesitant to take a step as filth and stains of an unknown source cover the ground. Flaunting a retched stench it appears to be alive preying on the bare feet of these miserable beings. Glazed over enlarged eyes snap to attention as I make my way to the window, I dare not catch a glimpse of their glooming stares in fear of what powers they might posses. With each grazing step I could feel the infection of the ground below creep into my veins. At first my limbs tingled as if they were asleep and then they went completely stiff, internally departing from my being. In grave pain and unable to move I remain fixed to the world unraveling outside this misery box. The sky was beautiful and clear, the lands went as far as the eye could see, and the serenity of the landscape outside these sordid walls was bewitching. Like a wild animal caught off guard and caged, I lashed out for my freedom as my limbs found their way back to my body. What unspeakable things have these people done to be condemned to such torture…what have I done? Finally my words reached my lips and spoke out in a vengeful roar “What have we done to deserve this!” “What dwells on the other side of this door for I only see glory in its purist…yet no one speaks? I small child walks to my side and grabs my hand, looking down I find that this child is my own. Weeping within my waking life I cried out in dream that this vision before me is not true but the child, my child remained alongside me in this horrid spell of despair. I quickly lifted him off the ground, frantically wiping his feet, muttering to myself and praying that he not be infected by the diseased earth that plagues this rigid confinement of shame and sadness. Racing to the door a woman’s voice from the other side belts out in authority “You are not to leave, step back from the door!” Frozen in my tracks gripping my son tight, I tensely stare at the door awaiting some form of she-devil to breach the threshold but the door remains sealed and the air becomes very still. Standing at arm’s reach of the door, thinking aloud I question “who truly is the oppressor, we are many and she is one. There is no lock upon this door except the guilt of some unknown deed. I do not except this fate and I refuse to drag my child through my past battles or will he be damaged by the shards of another’s, he deserves glory!” Grip tight around his delicate body and with an intense rush of adrenaline we burst through the door and into an outpouring of life, blanketed in glory.

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