Sons and Daughters

I am not from this world. I was born to a great destiny. I have a purpose. A name of eternity has been stamped to my forehead. My fight is not hopeless. My words are not in vain. My eyes are fixed on the sky. I have not been abandoned. My father is returning. He will set everything right.

I have to find the others. Thre seems to be so few of us. How can we survive this separation from what we were born for? How long? Can all of this truly be happening? A royal priesthood is what they call us.

I feel far from royal or noble. Our father is a great king. This is evident through us, the sons and daughters. We speak, fight and sing differently than any others. We were marked from birth . It is who we are. Yet we look so similiar to everyone else. We could blend into the crowds easily.

Sometimes, when the days are long and the heaviness of evil is more than one can bear it is hard to believe. Sometimes, I lift my head to the sky and scream in anguish. I just want to go home. Feel safe. Feel wanted and desired. Feel at peace. Feel rested.

Instead, I feel weary, weak, threatened and undesired. I am asked to be thing I cannot be. I try, just to feel some kind of temporary belonging, but always fail. Then I am rejected.

These days are full of a new kind of battle. The battle before the end.

I can feel the intensity in the air. Our father is coming back, we must be prepared. We must fight for his return.

The groaning and trevail in my body has begun. I can feel myself yearning for separation from this earth and unification with my real home.

I would do anything to go there now. I can feel this world's hatred and accusation towards me. Like a piercing, dark curved knife aimed straight for my heart.

I have only two choices: to fight or die. To die would be easy, painless and final. To fight is terrible...but in the end thre is only a beginning. A beginning of bliss and beauty.

My lips tremble with supressed emotions and pain. My sword, covered in blood, is clenched tightly in one fist. Dawn is coming. I feel the relief wash through my body. However small joy this relief brings, it is still a real feeling. Any light is a relief to the suffocating darkness of night.

I had run into the thick of battle at midnight and was now arriving back at our fortress. Only a few had gone out and only a few now returned.

We were all wounded. I knew mine were deep wounds, but they would heal quickly if I asked for it. There was not time to rest in self-pity. We had to find to the sons and daughters.