Apr 24, 2008

Storm the Gates of Hell

Another cold night has past. Perseverance was all that kept me alive. I awaken to the stream of agony. I hear the howling wind of pain and the rain of fear pounds the earth. Twisted vines of lies choke the life out of great trees. Shadowy figures of souls in sorrow wander through the valley of despair. Crooked and hunched demons poke and prod at those in doubt. A senseless madness consumes the world in a blazing fire. Ominous clouds cover the horizon and blizzards of anger rip flesh from bone. Lighting cracks, illuminating fearsome faces with horns and sharp dagger teeth. The bizarreness of the place gives one the chills. The frightening images scare a normal man, but who said I was normal? Fording rivers and trudging through mud I continue to move. I move through this life without a sense of anything. Without fear, without hate, without sorrow; I become the last warrior. A fighter of truth, a fighter for justice, the last hope for sanity. A purger of evil, a champion of the light. The pains of this earth won't harm me, the troubles of this world can't bother. The sweeping dark that has consumed so many is naught but a laughing matter. I bring truth and light. With enduring armor and a honed sword, I rescue the ones who can't help themselves. Storm the gates of hell.

Broder Johnston

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Broder, that is some good writing and I should know because I teach a creative writing class. I have a great book called "Lessons that Change Writers", by Nancy Atwell. I'll look for it and send it to you!

Uncle Ron