FOUND

Somebody whispered and I was caught in the chiseled world of pretensions and make believe. So, is it pretensions or make believe, it didn’t matter. Nothing matter except the deafening crying of the need to be happy. Never mind that it was the wrong place to look for happiness. The dazzling colors and gibberish music has lulled me to its spider web, lured me and suffocated me with toxic smoke that almost tastes heaven.

Everything is tarnished with malice, jealousy and greediness I have to look away and pretend I understood the games that are being played. Everything is loud and the days pass like a carousel, try as I might pretend a little harder. No time to ask the when or the how or the why just fill the moment with intoxication of that sinful liquor that makes me forget about that happiness that I might never have.

The hand that held me does not ease my increasing doubts and fear but shadowed my reasoning. The stings of the truth that envelop this make believe world and the endless night in the dream of no sleep has numbed my consciousness. I could no longer hear the nagging calling of my conscience or the lifetime education in the chapels of faith but I am neither deaf nor mute to call for help. But the burning fires and ashes of sin has caught my eyes.

I didn’t realize I was lost and needed to be found. The brainwashing was good that forgetting to make believe has turned my hopes into darkened and sick nightmares blaming the universe of picking a speck like me into blues. Afterall, I am just a crumb of flickering light in the sea of green and what is expected of that tiny dot that looked almost like human but to fail. I am frail I should be taken cared of and not put into ridiculous tests that only proves my stubbornness and my propensity to give up.

And that moment before I sigh to sleep when the certainty of nothingness filled my heart with discontent, I knew of the true me that wanted to be found. To be taken away from the scum of the earth’s evilness and to be free from enslaving mistrust and pain but the hopes of that knight in shining armors has been banished from me when I first heard the whispering sins. And before the void of unconsciousness took me, a single tear escaped my gripping walls of self-preservation because the knowledge that nothing will change my predicaments has engulfed me. Nothing is one thing, but the hopelessness is something.

The irony of my every smile has spoken my sarcastic belief and the boredom of waiting for death has left me apathetic. I am like dirt, tumbling down the valley of life hoping to either reach death first or the bottom because death is escape and bottom is the interlude where sighs are in place and a semi-start hope of a change in scene or act. An interlude where mistakes are laughed at and learned on but the chance of anew brushes aside the past into a funny incident to tell your grand children. Of course, deaths is something a coward only wish but grant that the tired soul had enough of provocation and cannot feel grateful for small consolations and the injustice had caused nothing but lethargic stare.

And then, he came with soothing comfort of warmth and it felt like a welcoming lullaby in a very cold cell of determined posh. I cried a river and he held on longer until all the anger and loneliness left me and the unhappiness of being powerless to challenge my quandary. It was a fresh relief to not be impugn of my ignorant choices and hear confirmation of my fears and pains and not the usual words the slaughter my self-esteem. He listened to my woes and heard my livid dissatisfaction about everything in life as well as the heartbreaks of a girl who asked for love and happiness.

And when it was time to go, he held my hand with encouraging confidence and nurtured me with forgiveness of the past. The bygone programming of nothingness has been cured and lingering any longer would augment the fear of taking the first stride. I am still self-conscious of my steps and the questions in my head are making my judgments uncertain and doubt my controls in my faculty. But the sweet surrender was calming my spirit with endless assurance of greatness and the emptiness has drift away with my soul screaming of the blissful harmony with the one that has.

I am found. The slate has been cleaned again like a fresh sheet with a warm coffee in the morning dews and the hopes in my heart has pushed the lurking guilt at bay. The dawn is inspiring me to embrace that cross called my life with outstanding gratefulness of being found again. My heart is drumming my newly found battle cry, “I am found. I am found.”