The Fallen

The first writing in my series "The Fallen"

The Fallen 

  

Narrow is the path, wide is the fall, and steep is the judgment. The flesh is dead and the soul is scarred. Hard is the choice, slow is the death, and heavy is the burden. The heart is weak and the will is fading. Easy is the turn, constant is the pain, and onerous is the thirst. The bones broken and the mind is lost. Oxymoronic is the debt, seductive is the affliction, and desired is infinity. The body is battered and the spirit is worn. Yet still, eyes are set upon a divine gerent and a heart upon a gracious crown. With borrowed strength, hope is kindled. Spreading like wild fire, yet caged like a beast. Howling for freedom, but fastening bounds. Ardent for answers, amaurotic to reason, and complacent in cozenage. The cutis deteriorates and hope is distantly close.  Prompt to disregard, deluded to fallacy, and abstained to axiom. The voice is coarse and the purpose grayed. Wayward from grace, saturated in damnation, and amenable to the insolvency. The vision is blurred and the manner tainted. Small is the mortal, great is macrocosm, and deep is the animus. The touch is numb and the reception is dejected. Yet still, legs march to the cadence of the seraphic trumpet sound and a soul yearns for mercy. Salvation is avowed, oblivion is trivial, and retribution is ceded. The end is certain and the beginning is undefined.