The Dawning.

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syria

Night was dark, all encompassing around him, punctuated with the echoes of far off shelling. He wanted it to be over.
The sheet clung to his body, damp, confining. Gone were the boyhood sounds of nature, gone too the human hubbub that distracted his thoughts during the day. At night he was alone with his fears; he could not hide from them. Again and again he traced threads in his head, patterns that had brought him here. He was not enamored of the man he had become, the blood of conflict stained his hands also. Faces loomed from the darkness of memory.
Once there had been love, and light. He had walked in sunshine. Now that was over and night ruled his ruined heart. Where was it going to end? Hate begets hate, when would he be free to love again?
A passing vehicle made patterns of light on the curtains, a passing illusion. Tossing off the enveloping sheet he strode to the window taking in deep breaths of cool night air. Tears of frustration began to flow cloaking his cheeks in the darkness.
“God! If there is a God in this mayhem, end this! Bring peace to my heart again!” His lips moved in barely to be heard whispers, the cry went from his heart. Eyes clenched in agony of mind he clung to the window ledge. For all his strength, his intelligence, he was helpless, mind reeling at the futility of life.
A bird broke the heavy silence, its shrill notes penetrating his isolation. Squinting into the darkness he glimpsed far off on the horizon the first glimmer of dawn. Other birds joined, defying the far off smoke clouds. It was not the vast chorus he had known as a boy, just a few voices in the darkness greeting the coming of a new day, a day as yet unbesmirched, pristine, pure. Perhaps today, perhaps another day, sooner or later a day would come bringing an end. His heart encouraged by the tiny songsters he returned to his bed an ember of hope fluttering within. Darkness would return, but so would the morning light.

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7 thoughts on “The Dawning.

      • ah I see. I don’t know enough about the situation to write it though. My daughter was doing relief work in Lebanon during the troubles some time back and I have a friend running a NGO in Gaza so my heart is always wrenched when I hear of these situations but I think you’d have to live it to be able to do a book justice and get the details right. I am working on a longer story I’ll be blogging in segments soon though. Thanks for all your encouragement it really helps me when I get discouraged.

      • Your writing is wonderful. You must be able to put yourself in the place of others to be able to write this as if you were there and make it believable. Empathy is a gift but it can also, overburden us. The Middle East is overwhelmed by evil right now and if you know people dealing with it, it’s hard to dissociate from it as most of us do.;0/—I’ll be looking forward to the segments as I always look forward to reading what you write.

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