Through The Eyes Of Fate by Molly

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Word count: 625

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PART ONE

I watch the dawn sweep over the mountains, it moves at a stealthy pace. Night’s shadows flee before its all-encompassing mite.

And so a new day is born, and with it new hopes and dreams.

I have the power to help build or crush them.

Who am I?

I am the bearer of good and the deliverer of evil. I am as old as time, born with the very first shard of light.

I wander the earth: I know every lush acre, every barren plain, and every soul that sets foot upon them.

I know well the valley that sprawls endlessly before me; I have passed this way many times before. But its rich pasture is now stained with innocent blood. A blight, a pestilence threatens its existence and it has but one chance to defeat its foe.

This place is no stranger to heartache, it has known great loss. I looked on as courage and stubbornness rode out those dark days, knowing that this day would surely come.

The future is not set in stone; humankind has control over their destiny. If only they were wise to the road best to take. Sometimes the path chosen is a long and arduous one. Sometimes the path leads the traveler astray; they may never get to where they are meant to be.

Sometimes, like today, paths will finally cross.

But will hearts meld? Will blood tell?

Gunfire echoes through the stillness. War begins. Life ebbs from the fallen.

I see the horror on a familiar face, feel again a mortal’s grief, and hear the sound of his heart breaking.

I march closer; this is not how it will end.

Courage shines bright in the eyes of another, and I am reminded of a distant battlefield.

His aim is true and the head of a serpent withers into nothingness.

Death is once more all around me. I watch the Reaper collect his due. Sated he vanishes into the shadows.

The dust settles, the air clears, and victory shines on the vanquishers face.

An era is over, and a new one begins.

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PART TWO

Night is falling. Its silvery orb hovers patiently amid the lingering twilight: its reign of glory nigh.

The easterly wind blows restlessly through the evergreens, searching always searching, yet blissfully unaware of the tragedy playing out in its path.

But I see her tears. Tears shed in both joy and in sorrow.

I can but look on; it is how it is meant to be.

She has laboured so very long: agonising spasms have hour upon hour racked her delicate frame. Yet her poise and courage have not wavered.

Only one regret, that he had not been by her side, but then he was not to know their son would come so soon.

God’s blessing nestles contentedly in her arms; but as generously as he gives, he inexplicably takes away.

Life silently ebbs; soon her inner light will flicker and fail..

Unafraid her lips part in prayer. Although weak, her plea is strong and selfless.

I listen unseen, then watch her soul soar burden free.

I see no tears in the ageing eyes, only frustration and cunning.

His words are brief and hurried as he bids a cold and shallow goodbye.

To follow a selfish act, one that will wound and almost destroy.

A cowardly victory, but I know in time he too will acknowledge defeat.

The brutal truth drives another to his knees, and grief flows unchecked.

Still his broken heart continues to beat and for a little while he will know not why.

Further loss and sorrow darken the horizon.

Like today’s wrong, it will take a lifetime to put right.

And I will stand beside him when that day comes.

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~end~

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