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by Alan Thorimbert
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The darkness envelops everything. Its first steps are ignored. Its second steps are noticed by a few, but they choose to do nothing about what they witness. Its third steps lead to widespread chaos which is soon repressed. However, when it takes flight and soars across the cities of the earth, the hearts of the public quake with fear.
Storm clouds roll across the sky and thunder cuts across the waters of the earth that turn murky and grow lifeless. Frightened individuals look up and watch the sky blacken with billowing smoke. They know not what to do as the eternal dusk eclipses their world and holds them in its grasp. Kids in their strollers begin to cough and their mothers rush frantically to find some way to save from the power that is consuming everything they know. The whole world now lives as the Cimmerian race that had long ago died in their graven shades.
I look onward across the world at the destruction and wish that I could do something about it, but it is so strong. It's grip is tight and its false facade is difficult not to succumb to. It wrestles with me and will not let me go until I accept its term, its charms, its prison. It would be so easy to say yes. The pain of its torment would then be far less. But something inside me will not allow me to let go. There is something in my core that gives me the strength to stand firm.
So there I stand. Alone in the night, I stand. I do nothing else. There is nothing to do. The darkness takes care of that. Everyone that I had know is lost to it. Everyone I know is taken away from me. Each time I reject the darkness, it makes sure of that. I watch my brothers, my sisters and my mother die in front of my eyes. I see the darkness enter them and their lives fall from their bodies. They scream as they suffocate. The sound of their voices echoes around me.
“This is the end, you know.” says Death who is formed out of the darkness.
“Perhaps.” I say. The words crawl slowly out of my mouth. I find it difficult to talk and it causes great pain. I look back now and wonder why I even spoke those days. There was no truth in what the darkness said. Even that which had some bearing with my present reality was laced with lies.
“This is the end.” Death repeats.
“Yet, I still stand.” I say softly. I feel my knees start to crumble and internally I tell my legs to smarten up.
“Everyone will die by my hand.” says Death. Its’ face is devoid of any emotion and yet there is some perverse pleasure that it has about what it is saying.
“I will still stand.”
“Even if it leads to your destruction?”
“Even.” I answer. I have no idea of where these words of courage came from. My mind continues to tell me to give in and it shoots sharp pains throughout my body each time I said something like this. My body shudders and agrees with my mind. It tells me to let go. It would be better for my health, my well-being, my sanity, my comfort, it says, than to constantly feel the pain that Death brings each time it haunts me with its presence. Perhaps it was my heart that is the source of the words. I do not to truly understand that organ.
“Would you like to see your fate?” it asks.
“Not particularly.” I answer truthfully.
“I'll show you anyway.” it says.
“okay.” I say without complaint. In front of me, the darkness swirls and I see a figure standing on a cliff as I was. Amongst the moving darkness, I watch as a shadow darker than all the rest walks up behind me. The picture then flashes and transforms into something different and I see a person falling off a cliff.
“That's odd.” mutters Death to itself. “Why was there a break in the future? Why is it hidden from me?”
“Perhaps there is something greater than you.” I say dryly.
“If there is something greater than me then you have nothing to fear of me. For that to be true. you must have hope, but from that look on your face, I would say that you have no hope and that would mean that there is no one greater than me.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?” I ask without really caring for an answer.
“You.” it states firmly. “I don't need any convincing. I'm winning and no one is standing against me.”
“I'm standing.” I say as I look into death's eyes. They are empty.
“Yes, but you will fall soon.”
“Perhaps.” I say again. There is a long silence between us before I speak again. I shift my feet. “And I do have hope...somewhat.”
“Oh! Really?” it says surprised. “And what hope would that be?”
“Well, I find that small light in the distance pretty comforting.” I say as I point to a small flame a few hundred yards away. I had been watching it for a while now. I couldn't even see my own face or hands, but I could see it. It quivers like a flickering candle every so often, and yet it seems strong.
“It's nothing.” the darkness says as it takes a stance in front of me to block it.
“It must be something.” I say as I step out of death's shadow and the flame returns to my line of vision.
“It's nothing.” the darkness repeats.
“It must be something to have you riled up.” I say.
“You're fooling yourself to think that it is more than it is. Like you, the light will soon be destroyed.”
“Perhaps.” I say as I take another step toward the flame's warmth.
“If you take another step that way, you will fall off the cliff.”
“Perhaps.” I say. “but haven't you already shown that that will happen.”
It says nothing in reply. It can't. There is nothing it can say to refute my argument. It had chosen to show me my fate, and it can't deny it without showing weakness. I take a few more steps toward the flame and it appears to grow larger.
“The light is nothing.” says the darkness.
“I think you're wrong.” I say with minimal strength. I am on the edge of the cliff now.
“The LIGHT is NOTHING.” it half shouts. For a moment it seems to lose focus and the shadows around me dissipate for a brief moment. “The end is here.”
“You said that already.”
“I guess this is goodbye.” It says angrily.
“Shouldn't you be happy?” I say. “If I take one more step, I'll be in your hands.
Death says nothing in reply. It's cold lips lie firmly closed and its breathing stops. With that confirmation I take the final step and find myself falling. But not in the same sense as my brothers falling. Death does not grab me. I do not suffocate. Yet I still die. I die, but not by Death's hands. I feel myself slip away and then I'm not. But then I am. Then I am standing on the opposite side of the cliff. Where the little flame is not small, but is a pillar. A pillar of light from which the darkness runs from. From which no darkness could ever associate with. I take another step forward.

If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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