Monday, 10 September 2012

Find my desolate soul

Why does it take an experience of the utmost desolation to make a community of beings realize the wrong doing in their actions? How does such an experience pull the forces of faith into one, such that they are intertwined to create a web linked family of the most capricious caliber?

Not to long ago, on a crisp Friday evening, I saw his dark eyes as the moon lit the sky to a velvet dye. I quickly reached over, wrapping my arms around him.. Giving him the most zealous hug my scrawny body could produce. Little did I know that this was going to be my goodbye; our last 'he-rah'! ... I wonder what I would've done differently, or said differently had I known that was our final encounter..
Perhaps I might have uttered a "thank you" under my breathe, for the mounds of support he had once shown me or for the strength he had forced me to pursue...

My mind plays back to the year 2009, entering high school as a freshman. There was this boy, who took lead from the pack, and made it his end game to mock and rag at every fiber that my being comprised of. Often a day, I would come home and lock myself away, allowing my weakness to protrude and roam freely in the confines of my own insecurity.
...The year progressed and the agony became unbearable. An unhappy child makes for unhappy parents, and as the tale goes, "the bullied moves away from the bully"... I had found a haven of safe, distant bliss from the abyss of my childhood odium.

It was not too many years later that the new found, self secure vixen in me, decided to wrap her claws around the neck of her childhood nemesis.
...but to my surprise, the situation had changed. Approaching the situation, guns a blazing, my vixen was soon put to bed in the surety of the emergence of a new man... Her bully had become her pillar.

"Running away from problems is what breaks you, and in life, you need a foundation that will make you and build you up to stand as your own pillars," he had said. An ancient traditional tales tells of how only the purest of souls can pick up on the strengths and weaknesses of the human being. The tale spoke of babies to be the angels to our souls. Yet, somehow, this manifestation of a wayward soul had found it's path into the grips of this once grum slum who had made me consider the unimportance of my life, time and time again. Is it possible that this same being could now be laying the foundation of what would allow my '7 pillars of strength' to stand stably on their own? Oh, but it seemed too unreal to me... There must be a God.

On this here day, September 10th 2012, I sit and shed more than just a tear for the moment of meeting, the moment of knowing, and the moment of parting... I shed a tear for the moment that was, and the moment that will be..
I shed a tear to my friend.. a mecca of brilliance... a pillar of strength... & a reformed grum slum.

MWASHE MBWAE.

Amidst my tears I cry this song...



Amidst my tears I cry this song,
Words I’ve meant to say all along.
Treasures of a life, hidden within a chest,
A heart beating pulse to give more than it's best. 

Amidst my tears I cry this song, 
A story of friendship playing out for long. 
In laughter I hear his voice to me calling, 
That by and by day, it'll be better by morning. 

Amidst my tears I cry this song, 
The loss of a life was never so wrong.
But entrust my faith in thine God I shall, 
And pray to bid my friend a fair well...