The Blood & The Bones

And the shots rang in his ears …

Like death’s alarm clock.

The sand, the smell of gunsmoke and coppery blood swirled about him like some sort of war haze.

And still he moved forward …

If trepidation could be held, he felt as if he could reach out and grab it.

A tangible thing like the peril he must put it aside to be.

But it does not hold you back.. if anything it becomes your motivation ..

Your reason..

He knew when he was so close to the edge of this life and the next that this was when he felt the most alive he’d ever been.. He was both sinner and savior here. In this desert, he felt fear and he felt free.

That’s why back home now felt like a suit he’d outgrown. A seat at the wrong table. A place and a person he didn’t know how to be.

So what choice did he even have now? He must move forward because what’s behind him was just that, behind him. And even if he didn’t understand it, he was a warrior. And warriors didn’t flee.

LL