Perceiving the Door’s Light

Trembling, shaking, shivering down my spine. I seem to barely manage walking at a normal pace. I try to walk on, but there are some events blocking my way. Fists against fists, gunshots bursting in the air, shouts and cries filling in every alley and corner. But I still continue to walk on. There’s eerie voices in my head, screaming “it’s too late;” “there's no hope;” “why bother.” I still continue to walk. As I tremble away from this harsh environment, a shimmering door of light illuminates the dark, polluted place. As I glance through the light, I see people laughing, cheering, all with smiling faces, hand-in-hand. “This is where I should go,” I mutter, “This is where I should stay.” But another personae of me whispers “Is this what you yearn for?” I stop in my tracks, just a few inches away from the harmonious light. “Do you really want this, going to the road away from your horrors, or should you take ‘the road less traveled by’?” These thoughts cluster in my mind, leaving migraines unbearable in my head, frozen to the point where I’m just an ice sculpture. Do I leave those people to suffer, for my own selfish desires? Or should I hold steadfast to the people who I know would not have a chance to escape?

    After hours of countless pondering, I stretch out my hand to the door of light, and slam it shut. I needed to see that kind of light in my own land, that is run by bigotry, bitterness, and blasphemy. I stay in this wasteland, and put my own hands to work, making my land that I was born in to be as luminous as the one next door, even though that door has now vanished. Who knows, maybe some people will even join me, hand-in-hand, to cut out the gargantuan clouds in our skies; even just a sliver of the sun’s rays glimmering will evoke a beam of hope into our eyes…

So, will you join me?