Written by K.S.
Sometimes an enemy does not exist till you go looking for one. I have been looking for it falsely out there, beyond the far reach of my sight. Ultimately, I have discovered it to be within these walls. My very own walls. These walls that used to throb from the vibrations of our cries to meet each other, our cries of pain when longing was hitting us rawly in the heart. Our cries of pleasure when God was printing his holy sign among us on the soaked with sweat sheets.
But lately, they remain unmoved; like us.
These four lonely walls have changed the way I feel. I lean on them. I stand tall in front of them. I clean and paint them. I decorate them and still, I cannot deviate them from their cause, which is no other than to make me start running. Run away from you until I am out of breath. However, when I regain it, all I want is to breathe next to you. To share your air. Just let me lie next to you and I will even blend in with the surroundings so as not to cause you any nuisance.
This enemy inside has shown me the best place to scatter my ashes after I am gone. Press them gently with your fingers, hold them close to your beating heart for a minute and then throw them down that hill. That is the highest I have managed to reach. I was never a speaker although I am sure I have conquered all the heights of your soul.
Sometimes I see the shadow of the enemy passing me by. Breathless and tired as I am I fail to notice mine in the distant light. The enemy fears that the wall will tumble down all of a sudden, but I am the only one who loses his balance around here lately. I keep wondering what will happen to my soul if I go mad. I want to know whether it stays trapped inside between the walls or it floats free and touches the finishing line first winning the enemy. I have always tried to be the guardian of your nights protecting you from the sorrow the starless sky brings. I brought you songs to dress your dusty silence when no promising sound prevailed. I paid your loans and carried your weight when you thought you were carrying the earth instead of your body. I loved you in the fiery red burning slowly, closely my body to the flesh, and yet smoke signals are all you can see now.
From all the graves I have prayed upon there one’s inscription I have kept in my heart and I will keep forevermore: “No love, no glory”. That pretty much sums up all of my reality. The one that stands confidently right next to the walls, the one that has never created an enemy, the one that can breathe and flourish without you. Rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness, give me the truth.
The hero perishes in the end. Sometimes he has to.