Becoming

The nurse drew up a sedative and approached the young soldier in his bed at the military hospital. He had been screaming in his sleep. His young face scarred with the bonds of lost innocence. His eyes, wild with fear and unimaginable pain, were windows to a soul that had lost its way. His lips trembled; he tried to utter words he could not speak. He was a soldier coming back from the war. The wounds he carried were not those of lost limbs, but the loss of his soul. Unfortunately for him, the war he fought, had followed him home and was now being waged on a new battlefield; one that only he could see. The weapons he needed to win it were different weapons; he had none and did not know where to find them. Hate had been a useful weapon over there, it had served him well, but now the fire of hate was self hate and it terrified him. Once an idealist, he had believed in his country. Now he felt his countries cause unjust. He felt lied to, betrayed. He was ashamed of what his country made him become. He felt alone, isolated and no longer knew who he was. He had no future and was chained to a past that he could not forget. He wanted to run away, but he had nowhere to run too, since he could not run from himself. He had killed others; some of them were younger than his baby brother. Every time he saw his baby brother it reminded him of what he had done. He wanted to kill himself. He could not. He was too much of a coward. He did not belong here. He did not belong anywhere. The nurse bared his arm, and gave him his sedative. She held his head in her arms and sang him a lullaby. Tears welled up in his eyes and his body convulsed with unspeakable demons trapped inside. He sobbed uncontrollably. She rocked him like a baby as she sang. Eventually he slept. Aftermath Deep, dark, deafening, shadows of emptiness fill my soul. A Black Hole of negativity sucks out all vestiges of life’. I am the walking dead. Hemorrhaging hurt rages against the light. A leadened blanket of despair wraps me, smothers me, And thickens the air I breathe turning it into a soup Of pain that drowns my tortured soul. Endless pervasive pain scours every fiber of my being. There is no rest, no respite, from the tormenting barbs of regret, For mistakes I’ve made, love I’ve lost, dreams I’ve dashed And guilt Guilt for what I have become, forever mindful That, the gift of innocence which I have thrown into the bottomless pit of despair, Can never again be mine. M/E….Alone Where do I Belong? Alone? or with them! Where do my feelings take me………..when I am alone? Towards tranquility and contentment or….towards My Destruction!...’The pleasures of the Lonely Path’…Not the pleasures of sharing! I know that I don’t want to be there…………………Alone! Yet I find things there, that I can’t find…………. with them. The pleasures attract me… No, no possess me, and they scare me. That’s why….I don’t like to go there………….…..alone. I’d rather be here …………With Them, then be here …..alone….with me. I like the me, they make me become……….with them, Unlike the me…….... I am Alone. Is it the ‘me’ I don’t like or ‘me alone’? Or is it the me I become when I am …………………………Alone! Please help me I'm drowning This can't be real. There must be more. All I feel is pain I'm sinking to the ocean floor never to rise again. The fading light is far away, getting dimmer by the minute. The inky blackness of my pain drowns everything within it. Deeper deeper down I go. I'll never make it back. The fading light that was my home now is just a speck. My lungs are bursting with my pain. My soul is filled with dread. I'll never see the light again, for soon I will be dead. Just let it out! Just exhale! Soon it all will end. Death, sweet death you must not fear. He truly is a friend. Just drift away, from the day, the day that was your hell, Into the darkness of the night, where torment does not dwell! Will I kick my legs and try to swim, or slowly drift on down? Just open wide, let death inside; your peace is all around. Do not fear; you’re nearly there. Let out the air. Let out the air. Just let it out! Nobody Wants to Keep Me Everybody wants me, but no one wants to keep me, she cried and wondered why. Her sorrow honed by retreat as she watched the years roll bye. The blighted dreams of innocent youth, now chains both long and strong. She wondered how it happened; how things could go so wrong. The playful, laughing, smiling girl, that used to love the Play, With fetal curl, and curtains drawn, now dreads the light of day. This battered beauty cannot see, with broken lenses clearly. Abusive husband for years has flown, yet still torments her daily. Rejection, pain, distain, abuse were hers as years rolled past. Her future furled, her body curled into her fetal past. The future has become her past; their welded into one. She dreads the light that gives her sight, into what she has become. Suitors want her. She’s had her share. They want but will not give. They take and take, and almost break that fragile will to live. The world outside, a nightmare ride that chills her to the bone. She hides away and dreads the day, and makes her chair her home. Her days are nights, her fear she fights, her morning has no sun. From endless day she hides away. She has no place to run. The only arms that hold her are the chair that traps her form. Huddled there in her prison chair, the only safety that she’s known. Like a broken mirror piece by piece, she gave herself away. She must protect the pieces left, so in her chair she’ll stay. The lesson learned, from the men concerned. She feels like pocket change. Everyone wants her, but no one wants to keep her. God is an Elephant: After days of meetings all the great religions of Perpetua could still not agree on what God was. They did finally agree that God was really big and so they concluded that God was an Elephant, but they could not agree on what color he was. Looking through their straw one religious group saw the white of the elephant’s eye and insisted God was white. Another religion looking at the elephants Iris insisted that God was blue. Looking at the elephants tongue anther religion insisted that God was decidedly pink. Looking at his skin through their straw, another religion adamantly insisted that God was grey. No one accepted that maybe they were all partially right and all partially wrong. Maybe God was all of these and more that they could ever see. No one considered the fact that they were looking through straws. And so they argued and argued and each began to discredit the other. Respect for each other was lost and intolerance ended debate. They all left the meeting convinced that the other guy was wrong. Some even made it their mission to force into submission those who did not see it their way. “It does not matter which end of the straw you look through, you are still looking through a straw.” Peter John Morry 2012 Musings What is Life? Is there death after Life? Is Life intelligence? Is there intelligence after Life? Where does intelligence exist? Does intelligence exist as energy or as matter or as both? Is intelligence a thought? Can intelligence travel through space, through time? What is time? If time is the curvature of space, can time exist without space? Can space exist without time? Or are they one… Space-time? Why does time only move in one direction? Is it because the universe is expanding? Why is the universe expanding? What is it expanding from? Was there nothing before the big bang? If so how does something come from nothing? If there was something, was it energy or was it matter, and if so where did it exist? If it existed, what were its boundaries? For you must have boundaries to have existence. What did the boundaries consist of? Before the big bang when there was, no matter, no energy, no space, no time? What was there? If there was nothing, then what is nothing? Can you create something from nothing? Is nothing somet