I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
My legs are jelly, as the strength from my body begins to leave.
I gasp for air,
As I get pushed back under.
Pure black is all I see,
Pure darkness all around me.
Tossing and turning,
Searching for the light amidst the chaos and confusion
Finally, I break the surface,
Just to be pummeled back down again.
This being viciously slams my head into the ground.
I can’t fight this.
I can’t win.
I can’t destroy this enigma that has taken so many lives before.
What makes me think I can escape it?
What makes me think I can withstand the next hit?
As I struggle to pin this creature i fight,
One word forms on my lips,
And out of my lungs, a weak “help” slowly slips.
But there’s no one there to help me.
It’s me, and this monster.
And we’re in a war for my soul.
The fight begins to take its toll as I slowly begin to lose all sense of what’s real.
This is where I die.
This is where I meet my maker.
Wait.
I can stand.
But how can this be, when this monstrosity still is standing over me?
I can walk.
But how?
This makes no sense!
What is happening?
I don’t understand.
I was ready to die.
I was ready to give up.
But now I have a second chance.
God I don’t understand!
Amidst this fray I thought I was alone. Why didn’t you save me, why didn’t you help?
I was waiting but you never came!
I was struggling to stay alive, yet you idly sat by and watched!
Where were you?!
My son. My beloved son.
Why do you question things which you already know the answer to?
You fought so hard,
You waged your own war,
Yet you never called out to me once.
You never uttered my name,
Yet you say I’m the one at blame.
My dear son.
How do you think you reached the shore?
When you were exhausted, and you couldn’t go on, who do you think it was that helped you stand?
Who do you think it was that put your feet on land?
I have been watching this entire time,
And when your lungs gave out,
I knew this would be the time I had to help you climb.
I knew that in that moment, when fear became reality and dreams became ashes,
That I had to intervene,
Because from you people still have so much to glean.
You are a prince,
Royalty in my domain,
Painting a picture predominantly poised to point people back to me.
An artist,
So eloquent in your trade yet you hide your words behind a screen.
A speaker,
So bold in your faith but unsure of the power your voice has.
So my son,
Yes.
I was there.
The entire time.
Because I care.
And because you matter.
