Conscience

Conscience

A Story by Taymour
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amusing :)

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Friend, oh my friend.
If only you could know how much I miss you
Miss your talk, miss your voice, all these old tales about us.

Talking, just talking with you made me feel delighted.
We were clear, transparent, just two persons with more than most of our thoughts collided together into one body

Talking with him, is talking to my conscience…
Yea my conscience.

Every little act I consulted him in it.
Every silent move I asked for his opinion.
Problems we lived in, curses we tried to conquer, and we faced it all together.
Every time I asked my conscience, and by chance my friend told me the same solution.

Is it a coincidence?
Anyway I don’t believe in coincidences.

I did mistakes, nobody is perfect.
Every time my friend blamed me before my conscience.
To that degree we belonged together?!
I guess nobody can be separated from his conscience.


Once upon a time I was sitting with him as usual, we were arguing in some complicated problems, and for the first time, we didn’t agreed together in the solution, for the first time I was disagreed with my conscience, I don’t know what happened, I was yelling, shouting and I was convinced with my view, although he told me that my thinking is illegal and forbidden, I didn’t care about what he said, I was hypnotized.

I continued in my way, left him in a misery case, I was convinced with my idea and nobody could change my mind.
I left him and walked down to the street, I was going to execute what I’ve decided to do.
After about 45 minutes, I finished my task, I was in an indescribable marvelous mood, I felt satisfied.
Suddenly I remembered my friend’s words, how much grief he was, I decided to go back and convince him with my idea, and how did it make me feel better.

I entered the building, although I was alone, I felt someone going up with me in that rusty elevator.
Someone beyond the nature, I was fine but strange feeling of anxiety built inside my heart.

I reached the floor, when I heard strange sound came from my friend’s apartment, I walked near by the door, while the mysterious feeling of someone walking beside you is still here, the suffering voice is still yelling, I knocked the door, but no response, I knocked it again and again while the voice is getting lower, I decided to break the door down, the voice had stopped.
I entered to find my friend lying on the couch, I run to examine him but he was passed away.

© 2010 Taymour


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Added on January 31, 2010
Last Updated on January 31, 2010

Author

Taymour
Taymour

Cairo, Heliopolis, Egypt



About
so moody character, hesitating, and lonely... I like psychology, i like knowing much further about human soul, and how it reacts... I'm always laughing and being in a good mood with my friends. .. more..

Writing
Sinful Sinful

A Poem by Taymour