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Tick Tock Is It Truly My Sin?
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Tick Tock Is It Truly My Sin?
Questions, without answers. Placing blame on someone else.
Just Jinn, Mother, Grandmother, Phenomenal Woman!
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (4)
Father Grant Me This One Thing (Short Stories) Walking the Earth looking for the meek and the mild, that is not what was found... A favor asked. [384 words] [Fantasy]
The Dutiful Daughter (Short Stories) The final breath of a mother, the final thought of a daughter. [478 words] [Drama]
The Lullabye Tree (Short Stories) A comforting tree, come to it and rest. It takes the weary, the depressed, the sad and lonely. [2,816 words] [Fantasy]
Time Stands Still (Short Stories) Living forever... [550 words] [Fantasy]
Tick Tock Is It Truly My Sin?
What are the days of a man? How are they counted? Is he given credit for good things he has done? Is there a book with his name written next to all his deeds.
If that book exists, then I am most to be pitied. Not that there are not those men that are far worse but, it is said that God measures each sin as sin. Nothing more nothing less.
I wonder, if I had spent my time helping those less fortunate than myself, would that weigh against my crimes. Would it give God almighty pause. Would He that sits on high look low, lower still, lower than that even? Would He call out to the angels, "HE HAS HELPED THE UNFORTUNATE, I WILL FORGIVE HIM!"
I am wretched God. Will you please end this torment or, perhaps this is my punishment. My punishment for taking a life. For taking a life of someone less fortunate than me. But God knows, had I not been filled with the poison, with the dangerous juice, perhaps I would not have done such a thing. If there had not been so much rage, so much of the green eyed monster. "You do know that God, don't you?"
"You do know that this is your fault, GOD!" "You made the poison, you made the juice, you made us human, you made us with LOVE, you made the women, their adoration a desirable thing, you made that bitch beautiful, not just to me but... YOU KNOW GOD!"
So I tick off the time. Tick, Tock, counting the minutes, the hours, days, weeks, months, years. How long will you let this go on?
Is it too much to ask? If you would only reach inside me and squeeze my heart. Stop it's repulsive beating. Shut the doors to my lungs. Stop the breath that enters and exits this disgusting body.
If you forgive then, let us see your magnificence. Forgive me.
The fire here is hotter than the fires of hell. The torture is extreme. You are the maker of time but, you didn't give us that appreciation, you didn't prepare us for it's little intricacies. I do not allow myself to dwell on it. I do not allow it to enter my mind because, I know it would drive me insane. You think that being insane would be better than this hell? No, you can't just go insane. There is a process and it includes absolute pain.
Yes, I am a coward, I don't want to hurt. I am afraid. Not of death. I am afraid of a commutation. I am afraid some bleeding heart will decide I am too good for death.
Tick, Tock. My time drags on.
Tick, Tock. My anger rises more and more.
Tick, Tock. My time drags on.
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© 2010 Jinndal Davis
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