And what of the soul

And what of the soul that wanders the unforgiving fields of inadequacy continually crippled by cruelty piled upon cruelty.
How shall this beleaguered light hold it's flame against the unrelenting darkness that sweeps over him with waves of shame?
Drudgery and disaster contaminate his every step, and betray the greatness that calls out to him in his dreams.
Ambition without direction and purpose; an arrow recklessly shot into the wind without concern for its trajectory or mark.
Each and every day we walk past them without even so much as a concerned glance, is devastation so commonplace?
Are we as a people unmoved by the torment that wracks another human being, have we fallen so far?
And again what of the soul that wanders the roads of waywardness for lack of better assurances and purpose?
How can the lost ever learn to be more if not for the nourishment only the free, the sighted can provide...
They live in cycles of continual self-punishment and escapism to divert attention from the blood pooling at their feet
chains become familiar and the broken begin to associate them with comfort and security clinging to the knowledge
that this pain will never fail them if they choose it, this heart-break can last forever, these addictions will hold fast...
And lastly what of the soul that knows the roads where no lions roam, and no vultures can circle what of he who
refuses to perpetuate the truth, declines to share the flame that lights his life, is he not worse than any?
The enlightened, choosing who should or would accept the gift that is not theirs to choose in the method of giving.
There is no acceptable excuse for a man who would withhold the cure to absolute death from brothers and friends.
what reason could possibly outweigh saving another from living an unending death in lakes of brimstone and ash?

I speak not out of condescension but rather empathy, I am the embodiment of all these things and yet still I know
that if I never reach beyond the walls my pain and the need for security this life has created, if I never expose my bloodied wounds
then you will never know that you are not alone here, in this dreary world. You have fellow strugglers beside you
and there is a truth that binds me to my path, one that has yet to change, one that is infallible, and that is this
There is a God above in heaven, who truly weeps as you suffer and who will carry you through when you let him
and to give this precious gift he suffered through his son the most brutal death recorded in the history of mankind.
So let these words be a call to arms, let these words be a light to guide you, and let these words kindle the spirit's
ravenous hunger for truth and purpose beyond that of our own designs.