What then is life?

What Then Is Life?

Rachel L. Stickler

8/5/2012

The outsiders speech. A talk of the world in the eyes of the one who has yet to see the Light.

Trapped, forever trapped in this cursed tower.  There is no hope for me, I will never see the light of dawn from within these stone walls.  Never shall a breath of freedom be sung from the belly of this iron dragon.  All is old, lost, never to be made new.  All will pass, yet I will live on in my misery.  The towers will seemingly crumble, though their power keep its hold.  My hair will become like snow and my back will bend with the age of many years. 

It was once said, “Those who hope, are shattered.” I wouldn’t dare to see if it is true.  Though I doubt there would be much of me left to break in pieces. 

No prince in golden armor, no magnificent white horse.  Nothing to stay my sorrows.

What then is life?  Is it not the slavery that they call freedom?  Or the hatred they call love?  Cannot a single man find his peace?

Everyone goes his way.  Never looking up, or in the waters of their own reflection.  What beasts they cannot see, for they have become blind.  What falsehood that is called one’s heart, for all veins flow with the blood of deception.

Hah, they call it joy, but a substance from a bottle is nothing more than a masquerade or a blotting out of one’s memories.

Shall I even mention happiness?  That is grasping all that one can carry and more.  Even if it breaks a family to shards.  Greed is made to be a thing of common smiles and a mask of laughter.

Like the stones that are newly laid, wagons will still roll over, and the horses will still trample them.  Not one sees that they too are wearing away.

Not even the mountains can keep from crumbling into the sea, how can we keep on this crooked rode and still live?

Where then is the hope?

A beating within me throbs its new arrival.  A vision of a blood spattered man with a crown of thorns, a crimson stained cross.  A sinless one who died for all.  True sacrifice, and mercy, love and redemption.  Can it be that he died for me?  That he can break these chains?  Yes!  Yes, my weary soul! It is He.  He who has now given hope to the hopeless, rest to the weary, and salvation to the lost.