Sunday, 1 January 2012

Letters to Sybil

My Darling Sybil, its been my constant desire to hold you close once again - our last affectionate hug still lingers as vivid as this ink upon this paper. Your cherubic face is forever etched in my memory and although I brought that frame which sees you still, it is no replacement for your colourful reality. I miss you already, I am thirsty for you. I do not belong here but with you - were it not for this strange allegiance to honour and duty, I would walk through this desert, swim the sea, to be accompanied with your amiability once again. 

I fear my dear, that a terrible mistake I have made. I should have made you my wife before my departure, I was willing but there were struggles inside of me which would not allow me to make you a young widow. I do not wish to die anytime soon but war is blind, the bullet may strike at an unseen moment, bringing me a great misfortune, failing my jovial heart to beat no more. Such is the drum of war that the generals have instilled in us a hopeful courage that death, our death brings our nation to victory. There are no spoils without sacrifices; our deaths will be like that of the sacrificial lamb - a substitute for those we left at home. My sacrifice I offer firstly to you, but I know you and your disposition. You would have me first offer it to Christ. 

My dear Sybil, my night as almost come and I must stay awake. In a few weeks, I have been drafted to go and fight in the front lines but for now I am safe. Save your worry until the first of June when your beloved will partake in a mission he wishes he could flee. To see you again will keep me alive - I pray and bid you join me which I know concerns your daily thoughts that God and his Christ may spare me and grant me the joy to commune with you once again - to see you dress in white and I to finally take your hand completing that blessed sacrament bestowed to man by God. 

With All my Love and More


1 comment:

Her beauty shines

Her beauty shines, A monolith among the rest. I wish to forgo But when holiness fills my soul, I am drawn to her, The forbidden pasture...