The Black Flame And The White Man

Like a winding path set mysteriously before a prisoner, darkened by the shadows of silvery twisted oaks, and sunshine patched, like tiles simultaniously set before one anouther in a grand mansion hall...
The wind flickers at a rouge flame, black as sin, but white as love, stars forsake their shine- the cross is wooden, crimson blood mingles down like small teardrops from a child's soft sorrow...
I stare half-fearfully and semi-confused at a man, clothed in a white hospital gown,lying bulged and disfigured below my gaze, the air is limp and light dimly visible...
Druel streams into a murky pool, drenching the bed covers and newly bleached sheets, from the last contender, prisoner rather of death- the cancer is ever present within his milky glazed eyes- emotion is scarce...paralyzed in the darkness...
"Perhaps he will die, maybe not; Darryle is awfully pale and almost inanimate...now he fades...
"Darryle where are you running, is the pathway long-Come back!" Screaming,rage and fear- sorrow most often...
Mother will cry, she bites her lip and trembles like a small cub encircled by predators, she feels the weight placed upon her, the need to be, something more...
Her tears, like small glass raindrops fall upon a heaving bony chest, a golden cross is reflecting what ribbons of light suggest, I think she could fill the Nile in Egypt with her pain, the Tigris and Euphrates would cause overwhelming panic...
"I am caught between who I am, who I might become,what I need and want..."
Perplexity, causes my knees to break beneath, I am for once speechless as the man, I never really understood attempts to speak of kindness...
Mumbling like a babbled child, perhaps at life's last moments, time stills and the oak filed path becomes more visible than ever before, and you hear soft whispers, though not understanding- And suddenly you feel flame and water quenching like a rush, your hair flows in the glittered peices of sunlight which envelop your whole form, and you are set free- washed like a dove, wings mended...and flight...
At this moment the trail was forged, saturated within the luminosity of each beam, embraced by a patient hand, quietly you speak- "Who are you?"
The white man gently replies, " I am love, I died for you- sacrifice isn't easy you know?... But you were lost, like a black flame, but now your found, my son!"...
The air lifts into a tranquil hum, and the light in Darryle's eyes dimmed- like a black flame, he was a lone wolf, and I loved him in a sort I couldn't understand, till this day when peace will abide, and I feel him in the soft whispers of an autumn breeze that twists and plays with each strand of my hair... I was his daughter of a sort and I know he loved me, like the sun that cherishes its creation in a child's smile...
"Darryle- I love you, I miss you, I forgive you!"...