The following poem is fictional and is not based on anyone or anything in particular. Please take it for what it is – an intense poetic story.
A hero marches forward
As the hourglass flips upside-down.
All that is old has become new,
While the modern turns ancient.
He moved the clock’s hands a fathom
Into Space-Time’s perilous depths.
Through a rabbit-hole he goes,
Where light is belched on an axis
Into the surrounding cosmos.
He has come to liberate us from our evil nature.
He is our champion, our greatest hope,
Yet beneath his veneer of glory is a burden of shame.
Yes, he has saved the world before,
But he is actually a pawn in a dangerous game.
His heart was pure,
His motives rational and circumspect.
He who prevented catastrophes
Earned unconditional respect.
Born in isolation, the hero was sheltered
From life’s truths since his youth.
Ideals were his goals;
Bringing them to reality his manifest destiny.
The hero was consumed by the ideals of liberty and fairness
That pervaded his psyche.
He was ordained to be king.
He was so brainwashed that his name became a curse (as did he)
When the binding chains were broken by dragon’s rage.
Clouded by pain and sentience he was,
That he declared war against his own existence
And all whom he deemed as resistance.
The trauma of his past was just too deeply rooted.
His mind was withering from lack of relief;
Renewal was denied by the lies
That the impostors had invented.
They are the supreme conjurers of false beliefs.
Few things are as wondrous or as terrifying
As pure innocence, they concluded.
There were periods when anger occluded the soul
And the hero was abandoned to its fury.
Where was the responsibility, the love,
The dignity that is inherent to all living things?
Bondage cannot be broken by people alone;
Only the Messiah can be the Truth
That sets them free.
Such was the case for our champion,
A mere mortal,
Who was imprisoned by his own ideals.
To walk the tightrope of double-mindedness
Is to run through forbidden flames.
Even one mistake can end it all
When Jesus Christ is not there
To catch you when you fall.
The LORD of Hosts found the hero
In the midst of a dream.
Miraculous was the message,
Which mended his wounded heart.
“Strive no more.
Power is narcissistic and futile
Because humility cures all cults of personality,
Even that which surrounds you.”
The Voice of Truth annihilates all deceitful notions.
It overwhelmed the man,
A grown-up brought down by hypocrisy,
Constant rumination, envy, and bouts of paranoia:
Can the sun shine once more?
He was a boy at heart,
Disobedient and tormented by rolling nightmares
That nullified the connection to his true self.
His spirit was a dull blaze.
Yet, contact with God’s spirit ignited his soul,
Flooding the gates of his mind
With enough good memories to make him whole.
The hero wept for the first time,
Discovering that there is joy in sadness
And, for once, true salvation.
“I am no hero, Jesus,
Just a phony.”
“No, My son, you are sincere
Because I came to you
And you accepted the Truth.
You are clean now.
Lay down your life for Me.
Your past is history.
Do not seek it.
My Grace is the present,
The gift of a future to be revealed as a delightful mystery.”
“We are inseparable
Now that you have been baptized with the Holy Spirit.
You no longer live in captivity.
Live your life with intent.
Say goodbye to your disability.”
Heroism is not just passion or strength.
Truth triumphs over Ideals
That alter Eternity.