It is with some concern that I say that I'm feeling tad morbid right now. Oh, the joy of rainy days.
Not that I despise the music of gentle pattering, or am ignorant to the tears of nature. It's just that after being so accustomed to glorious sunshine, a gloomy sky of drab, drab gray can a downer.
Anyway, here is a letter to death that wrote for school. And no, I am not kidding when I say that I actually wrote to death.
And to those who have read my previous post, I may be taking it down because there are details I want to revise in the excerpt. In other words, I am not really compatible with what I had written there.
So to not dull this prosy day even more, here we go...
(Yes Nat, this is a vocab assignment. Week 11 to be exact)
Dear Death,
Whenever light falls to dark, I perceive a shadow that swoops furtively upon the open prairie. It often appears to be a motif, a reminder of the most beautiful yet daunting story. Yet, I know that with this eclipse, you ensconce yourself in a dingy hovel, writhing in not your own agony, but our remorse.
It is said that man leads an incorrigible conscience, and that because of this inevitable streak, we will never live a day in which the vile poison of want and ignorance is extinct. For years, I have stood as sentries by countless individuals and watched them be seduced by greed, speculating the claws that tear their lives apart. But you always elude the enigma that wreathes your very breath at the last precarious moment, and you obliterate their vanity and self-conceit. You are their one salvation.
Despite this benevolent consideration, you express no ingratiating feelings toward our race; no daring smiles of encouragement or firm assurances of support. Instead, you precipitate sorrow and mock our population in their most wretched and indigent hour. I sometimes question our very existence: are we another one of the Greater Good’s inscrutable mistakes, not a gift, but rather a “result?”
Perhaps we should not have slipped past the cunning fingers of the one who gave us the chance to breathe, the one who presented us with the ability to dream and think. So many of us let these neglected talismans fly away or inflict them upon others with a dark motive. It is certainly disheartening to be a spectator of intemperate plundering paralleled with stingy alms, and even more so when you realize these souls are linked to you by relentless chains. But you will be there. You will rinse away our muddled colors and replace them with your very own.
I have often heard that the most insignificant, innocuous endeavors can bring upon the greatest change, though whether or not the reforms strive for a brighter future is still one of Life’s intriguing mysteries. Even though you may not have yet divulged the truth, something unfurls whenever you take a burden in your arms. It is as if the question mark perched upon their shoulders dispels into light, and through their grief, they see a revelation – the rawness of their actions. The feigned insipidness they once expressed to each other crumbles to a formidable unity, as if the lines that divided them are the ones that tie them closer together.
While we will never wholly exterminate the intractable problems that bring so much turmoil and bloodshed, the conflicts can undoubtedly be mended with time and forgiveness. Because you will be there, healing and destroying the worlds you played a part in creating.
It is with a bittersweet tear, however, that I annunciate I am not indefatigable, for the sigh of fate emanates from every cell and garden I now place my foot in. Perhaps this pronouncement echoes in a rather irrelevant tone with the rest of my salutations, but I thought you would like to know and plan for the upcoming career.
I shall see you tomorrow, if it ever comes.
Sincerely,
Unknown
