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Repentance (standard:Editorials, 111 words)
Author: CyranoAdded: Mar 27 2009Views/Reads: 2011/0Story 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. 


   


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