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Renovatio
By
Shotgun011

Renovatio

Under the ruins of a walled city; with crumbling towers and beams of yellow light showing through the holes in the walls, with no flags of truce being seen, and with no cries of pity being heard above the sound of the siege guns that have been pounding it through the night. We built these walls of stone and then they crumble back to be encircled in trenches and barbed wire now, beneath the tattered flag we'd made. I returned across the fields I'd known once, and had to stop in my tracks for fear of walking on those mines I'd laid, when we fell back to this walled city.

It seems as though we have been running in circles, and always coming up tails, nobody ever said it was going to be easy, or said it would be this hard. Knowing that y ou probably have had thoughts or even just wished that I was dead. And we both know that history is like gravity holding us both down, and questions of science, progress, and logic don't speak as loud as my heart. And it seems I have just been guessing at numbers and figures and pulling puzzles apart. Remembering once when I caught you burnin' photographs, that you thought could save you from your past. Yesterday doesn’t really matter once it’s gone, for there is no time to lose, and ain’t life unkind?

You and me, we've both got sins, and I don't care about where you've been; asking you not to be sad, and don't explain, for this is where we can try to start again. We spend these tales of luck out of trust, with hope and prayer underneath the wounds we’ve received. Later becoming those scars we carry, which the sun’s dark light couldn’t or wouldn’t heal. I know in many ways I have nothing to live for, yet I have no reason as of yet to die. But, when I am standing on the gallows with the noose around my neck; I’ll be staring at the skies above. For no matter where they decide to take me: Death I will survive in some shape or form. And then again they might forget the noose and instead if they could read my thoughts and my dreams could be seen they’d probably put my head in the guillotine instead.

When I am standing in the fires of Hell I will let the Devil know that I was brave enough to die, as I look him in the eye, and tell him there is no hell deeper than my pride. Though I have tried most of my life to win by bluffing with a losing hand I know in most cases my word was as hard as oak, and if need be I will stop a bullet for you, or pull you from the fires. For all I need is somebody to die for in order to have a shot at redemption, renewal, or restoration. And keep hope alive which most of the damned in Hell keep in order to have a chance to dream of achieving Heaven.

So come to me my sweetest friend and be able to feel that flame I call my heart again, as silver sparks strike to ignite it again. And come to me with your secrets laid bare for there can be no hiding of the truth, which stands as one of the few unchanging things, and I’ll try to take you back to where you belong, so t ell me your secrets, and ask me your questions. And then maybe we can go back to the start, so come back and haunt me so we might be able to come back as what we are, or were.

Let me build a bridge to cross the chasm that looks down upon the rue full of madness, and then let me set the battlements on fire, so that we might cross over amidst the howl and roar of the shells from those massive siege guns firing. Crossing over as the invading armies sleep, as we look down on the madness like a pitching queue headed to the gallows pausing only to sing their songs of praise to the hallowed. And I knew and still know I was not magnificent at any time especially now. I’ll come up to meet you, and tell you I'm sorry that you don't know how truly lovely you are as we make our way through the lines.

 As we slowly returned across the lands we’ve always known, and near a broken field the sound of white crippled wings can be heard beating across the sky. And if we can let the memory heal of standing in the shadows as the shells exploded nearby, I will always remember you there with me in that besieged city by my side there on the front lines. Though I might have thought I fought without a cause, you gave me a reason to try and became someone to cry for and to die for. And forever I'll fight, and when you are alone don't go gently into that good night, and rage on against the dying of the light.

Copyright Timberwolf International LTD: October 2015 – 12

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than storiesspace.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright Timberwolf International LTD. All rights reserved. Copyrighted and protected under the copyright laws of both The United States and of The United Kingdom. Under U. S. Code Title 17 § 204. No unauthorized duplication by any means including electronic, or copying may be allowed unless permission is asked for in writing and permission therefore granted by the author or copyright holder, or his/her agent. In writing and signed by the owner of the rights conveyed or such owner’s duly authorized agent. And duly witnessed by his or her representative or duly assigned agent. Under penalty of copyright infringement or intellectual property theft. All violators will be prosecuted.

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