Thursday, January 6, 2011

The man who dared God. (Tales from the dead)

The place where heroes wings refuse to fly.

The words therein are a compilement of some hardly lived out experiences in the past few months; the depth of questioning of which many might not find comfortable, heck even i did not find me comfortable. If at the end you observe that i have disabled comments, then bear with me, i guess i already concluded on the matter by myself.

If i am to pen any introduction at all before jumping in, it would be this: ...until finally one morning, a deafening scream jerked me out of my sleep. My heart was pulsating fast; indeed i knew my heart was where the agonized cry originated from. I looked inward and i saw my soul bawled over like a weak child...she couldn’t take it anymore, she was desperately in need...of You again.

...Lend me your god.

Last nights i dreamt that i kissed the lips of blackness, plunging into the depth of deep dark oceans, meeting my worst fears face to face, and you know the dreams were not mere imaginations. Many are the voices that have spoken these past months and i hate the fact that you have let them wander freely unhindered through my mind. Voices that have ravaged and torn down every fabric of faithful conviction that we have spent lives of years building. Voices that have not sprung up without motive or notice; i know that they have been long coming, creeping and biding a time to eclipse my being. I hate that you sit there and allow this all to happen. I hate that you would not just show your face and calm my mind, but i guess, and yes realize that they will come to the best, even worst of us. Thoughts of pious righteousness becoming worse than filthy rags that i have stepped over in my confused search for something that yesterday i would have sworn was never missing. Many are the lips that have quietened me from speaking these foolish blasphemy, but you know that i would rather take this to the very limit. You know that i would not stop until i reach the last word, arrive at the last truth, the reason for which i would...or even should, believe you.

I have sat at the feet of many in these past months, and you have watched me without saying a word. I have listened to the sermons of atheists, tearing down any insensible reason why i should wait or hope for you. Why I should give a heart to a deity who kills, allows pain and remains quiet through my questions of why. I have watched the best of us surrender it all down in utter confusion. Yet i have pressed further even without understanding, if even he could not understand it anymore, why should i? Ooh these, you know are not the words of a child, instead of one who has stayed managed to stay close through ages and pain. If i would choose to question today, i only thought it would be fair for you to give me answers on time...before i went too far. Before i kissed these lips. Why should he die....even after all? Why should i struggle, if he would give up the struggle after more years? Why should i love you? What makes you different from the myriad of philosophies that abound? I know i have often made you flinch in these past days with my regardless utterances and pondering. But if you would see use of me, you know that my mind today would not rest until i can lay hold a coherent reason in my hands...of why i should die for you.

And the words from that diary went on and on....dark days

Fast forward to today....
One reason why i believe in you is:

Through the night my soul longs for you.
Deep from within me my spirit reaches out to you.
Because i find that my soul needs, longs for that anchor that only you could...would...give. I.26


  1. "....he remained disatisfied with glib cliches and sound bytes,and held out for deeper understading."

  2. This is so deep, I almost drowned...
    Imma read again...