The Mirror Part 3 - The Departure

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic


The young man departs from the place to which his rescuer - the mighty Eagle took him and cared for him, while he recovered from his time in captivity ...

Submitted: July 02, 2018

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Submitted: July 02, 2018

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THE MIRROR: Part 3 - Departure:

 

My eyes stung from many a mourning tear,

As I bade farewell to the place

I would call home.

My heart felt secure there,

With warmth and love embraced,

And I feared from the haven to roam.

But my soul took comfort and was assured,

When e’er I beheld the shadow of that Great Bird.

 

In the armour that he gave me,

And the mighty sword at my side.

I walked with strength and purpose,

And sang his battle cry.

When e’er I looked above me,

His shadow was always there.

How truly did my Guide love me!

How tender was his care!

 

Then, as the evening came,

I beheld a dreadful sight,

At which my blood did curdle,

And my bones turned cold with fright:

Before me stood a dragon,

With a siren at his side.

Their weapons held at the ready,

There was malice in their eyes.

 

I drew my sword and braced myself,

Ready to face the fiends.

Alas I knew not their strengths,

Or a little more reserved I might have been.

As one they did attack me,

The weapons smote me sore.

For I was yet untrained in the use of these tools

Or the armour that I now wore.

 

In anguish did I cry out,

As I felt my strength subside.

But I saw not the eagle

Immediately at my side.

As blows rained like hailstones

Upon my weary head,

I cried: “O Eagle, to me strength afford.

Else thou shalt surely find me dead.’

 

Then, to my relief

I beheld the welcomed sight.

The Great Bird swooped down toward the ground,

And put my assailants to flight.

As he placed ointment upon my wounds,

I asked: “Why didst thou not come to aid me,

When I was in my hour of need?

Why only when their weapons had all but slain me?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The words he spake to me then

Cut deeper than any of the wounds I had received:

“O feeble, fickle man, truly you are deceived,

If you think at all

That I am here to your beckoned call.

Was it not I who rescued you

From your imprisonment?

Did I not save you from your predicament?

 

Mayhap ‘twas better that I left you

Lost and for longer cast aside.

For then you would have learned the price to pay

If you will not curb your foolish pride.

Can you fight on your own

Without the armour that you now wear?

If my heart did not truly love thee,

Bleeding and next to dead I would have left you here!”

 

With eyes downcast, I replied:

“Wilt thou forgive me,

For out of fear did I speak in haste.

Teach me the folly of pride,

Open my eyes, let me see.

Thy words, though bitter to the taste,

Are balm to the injured soul.

Cleanse me again, and make me whole.”

 

He spoke words of comfort to me,

And to his warnings I paid heed.

He assured me that he would come to my aid

In my hour of urgent need.

“My strength shall be sufficient

To enable you to stand.

You need not fear, for though evil is near,

It shall not be from my hand.”

 

I pressed on with my journey,

And felt my strength had slowly returned.

For renewed fellowship with my Guide,

For a while my spirit yearned.

Every step that I did take, he spurred me on.

When e’er I tired and lost my way,

By his counsel I was led.

And ne’er once did let me stray.

 

But soon I became complacent,

And neglected to pay heed

To the prompting of his Voice.

I didn’t pay attention to my soul’s great need.

My heart began to harden,

And callous to the threat.

Mistaken, I thought in my heart

That I was not in danger yet.

 


© Copyright 2019 Tristan Biggs. All rights reserved.

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