Sparrow and the Crow

WHERE IS JUSTICE

The summer grows hot; I can't bare this awful heat. Somehow I knew this summer would be very hot, because there was no winter. Also, the string came during the winter months, bringing the summer's heat. "What is this world coming too?" I ask myself. When a man can't tell season from season, and when he blinks an eye, the light of day slips away.

I'm a young man now, strong, confident, self-assured; but unsure about the many things I see that affect human life. Death has become a game, a young person's way of life; and an old person's worst nightmares come to life. What evil has befallen our young, during a time where the heat burns our skin and uncontrolled flames of desire tempts our helpless souls?

I often find myself screaming out for Justice, demanding a response from God; but then I stop and ask myself, "Who am I?" and "Am I but a man in this world, or a man of God?". Maybe I am just some fool waging a war on either side, a voice that screams at the Heavens and challenges the grounds below.

My young brother's and sister's are dying. My mother's eyes are forever crying. My father was always angry at himself, but when he died hell had to rest. I find myself trying to teach my young brother's and sister's to love one another and learn not to hate. For if you hate, then hate will be your fate. You must learn to love, and give honestly of yourself, for you must believe in something and someone or you will be condemned to be with no one. This is how this story goes.

As I lay in my bed, naked before the four walls of my empty room, I appear to be asleep, but I still can feel the gloom of my empty room. The summer has been very hot, my room is especially warm. There are no lights in my room, because my mother couldn't afford to pay the electricity bill this month. So the only light that is in my room is the light from a distant pale moon.

As I sleep darkness befalls my room. I open up my eyes, but they appear to have never been closed. "Am I awake?" I ask myself. Then it appears. What is it? A black shadow of a man with long fingers appears to reach for me. I can't move. Should I be afraid? Why am I not afraid? I want so desperately to call out for my mother, but words can't escape my mouth. Silence controls my room. The shadow keeps reaching for me, but there seems to be an invisible wall around me, not allowing the black shadow to touch me. I feel safe for at least the moment. Yet I pray for the light of day.

The black shadow is trying so desperately to reach me again, but it fails. I'm very glad it can't reach me.