|Repentance (standard:Editorials, 111 words)|
|Author: Cyrano||Added: Mar 27 2009||Views/Reads: 2011/0||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|We are all, each and every one of us, loved. To not understand this is to understand what it is not to be loved for eternity.|
I expect to become a very wicked madman. Everything points to this conclusion. I want to be buried in the shade between good and evil. Never mind the hymns, the flowers, and the stench of a priest's breath. I want the sick despair, a piece of my own dark sky. Who needs an everlasting sun? I want to rise like a hanging fog; skin corroded by dirt and disease, drunk, having nailed a thousand loves to the cross. Let me live among the ageless, the heartless, and other unknown figures so that I may repent my having recognized, too late, that I was firstly always loved by The Son of God. Tweet
Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Cyrano has 94 active stories on this site.
Profile for Cyrano, incl. all stories
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.