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Unending tears at Twilight. ( A classic litrary work. )
Dear Friend,
The darkest part of the night has come and I am still awaiting the early morning light. Oh heavens ! When will I see the incandescent light of day after such tumultuous twilight. The torrent and tornado has been such a torment and torture. What sort of whirlwind is this ? Life is turbulent. Life is truculent. Life is such an embodiment of turpitude and depravity. Yet, when will there be an end to this depredation disdainfully perpetrated on me. The crying
roses never stop to weep. The orchards are flooded with troubled waters of incessant tears. I lower my eyes a little down and I lift them suddenly high up, yet what do I see ? I see an apparition of the Lord telling me to walk on troubled waters. And a walkingfaith of mine makes me to step on the waters that besiege me. But the whirlwind is too intense, the night so terrifyingly dark and cold, and the day light and seashore a mystique too far- fetched to conceptualize.
On a lonely walk along the street, my heart pines lugubriously. When will I ever get back to my homeland ? I have endured enough long suffering in a strange land. When will this magical band be changed to my favor, Oh heavens ? Even the trees and birds are weeping for my sake. This is absolutely farcical, Oh earth ! This is a travesty of justice and a parody of the highest grandeur. But listen intently ! The melancholic drums of doom have been beating for an endless time. The indefatigable drummer is at its pinnacle of its loudest bang, and I have had a mid- night naked dance to his beats for such a long time. Soon the drums will burst, because an old adage of mine reminds me that the resounding drums tear apart when they are at their loudest bang.
At the corner of the street, the Stone whispered into my ears in the dark of the night, gossiping that I should look up at the Moon and I should never give in. I took a quick look at the Moon and behold, I saw the Moon pensively glaring back at me and telepathically sending messages of empathy. What a paradox, my mind intuited. Oh Moon, I retorted in utter indignation. When will your despondent twilight give way to the incandescence of day light. What is this empathy all about if you not give way to a new dawn ? A desperation of a thousand and one spirits must have over heard our conversation as I had clearly drew a line between us. The grasshoppers whimpered, the mosquitoes moped in mortification, and I could see the ostensible grimace on the faces of the over grown bushes. Slowly, I retracted my steps as I walked away in downtrodden poignancy.
Down the lane, a deluge of rainfall drenched my whole body. A little look to the heavens, and a little look on the ground, I realized the avalanche of down pour were actually my cryingroses. Oh my God ! I must have cried so much. Please let this cup pass over me soon, I exclaimed. Adriotly, I started to walk on my own seas of tears like Peter walked on water in the Bible. And in my sub- consciousness, I reminded myself that I was walking by faith, and not by sight. I am sure the aquatic animals in my sea of tears, if nothing else
could attest to that.
Love and Solidarity,
Stephanie strongfaith.
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