There is a war raging within, between darkness and the light, and O how fierce a battle it be a going.
Tis darkness, as deep and infinitely cruel as the darkest black hole into which all that surrounds it is swallowed up, and there be no remembrance thereof that can ever be brought back into the light.
But I see a flicker,
a trembling,
a moving from within the midst of the darkness,
a shadow,
a shape,
a figure stepping forth from the midst of the darkness, clothed in brilliant light.
He speaks, “Reach forth and take my hand”.
I extend my hand and he wraps his hand in mine; and as I look I see, a scar.
My mind reels, how can such perfection be so marred.
“Son”, I hear him speaking to me again, “These wounds that you do see, these are they which have set you free, from that darkness which had control over you.
