Crossing paths

When the Seventh seal is opened and the Seventh Angel rides on a white horse into battle, Satan and his lies.

The Seven Angels shout from heaven up above, as the horseman slays the devil and the whole world shall be judged.

Now there are angels all around us that try to save our souls, we do not hear their voices, they whisper way too low, but the devil he shouts loudly for all the world to hear, tells us that it’s all good and there is nothing we should fear.

There is a straight and narrow pathway that leads to paradise, or the broad and traveled highway that leads to your demise.

Its been a while but that’s the real killer about time, we have so much and yet so little.

Yet with the little that we have oft we choose “the broad and traveled highway that leads to our demise.”

J and I have known each other for many, many, years though at times our paths have wandered in different directions, yet somehow through the twisted fabrics of time, the rich and crazy tapestry of life seems to bring our paths back together and for a little while we travel a distance no longer alone, exchanging our stories over the campfires of night.

Its been that time of late, when are sharing our journey together, catching up, reflecting. There is no logical reason why our paths seem to be intertwined, just one of those things.

J’s story is long and dark, involving several nervous breakdowns and 14 suicide attempts, she now limps through every day in a lithium induced state, virtually devoid of the girl, I once knew when our paths last crossed.

No matter how far humanity attempts to move forward, we always seem to slip backwards. It’s not so much what we do in life as such, but what we do to others, the scars and the damage we often leave behind, that reaches beyond the moment and ripples outwards for years to come. A never-ending echo.

Years and years locked away in a bedroom, in vast and isolated farm-house, in the name of “love.”

Yet how can someone profess to love the very thing they are systematically destroying? Lies, deceit, violence, darkness, cleverly crafted into a potent potion of normality, so far estranged from the reality of the concept it set out to achieve.

When something so bad becomes so “normal” that life with out it then becomes abnormal.

Then there follows the endless isolation, the rhetoric of “Should have got out of there,” “I would never have put up with that,” Always so easy to advice when you are on the outside looking in, never the same when you are there, living the moment yourself.

A twisted world of horror’s untold, carved into the very soul and mind of another, so much so that J thinks to live with out it is worse than to live with it.

As people why do we do this too each other? surely when someone chooses to share a part of their life, a part of their soul with you, we should treasure that, honour it and leave only good in our wake?

For now, J and I sit besides the campfires, while the storms inside her mind are subdued by the lithium, she talks and I listen and that is all I can give her, like time so little and yet so much.

When early morning sun begins to rise and the flames of the fire die down, once more our paths will part and our journey will continue in different directions, until the next time our paths are drawn together.

I walk through the valley of the shadow of death and I fear no evil, because I am blind to it all, and my mind and my gun they comfort me, because I know I will kill my enemies when they come.

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life? and I will dwell on this earth forever more,

I walk besides the still waters and they restore my soul, but I can’t walk on the path of the right because I am wrong.

No I can’t walk on the path of the right, because I am wrong.

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~ by Duma Key on April 2, 2017.

2 Responses to “Crossing paths”

  1. Being there and listening is often the greatest gift one can give a friend.. xx

  2. I always feel lives intertwine for a reason….I feel like maybe she needed you…to listen…just be there….I am glad you were there for her…

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