Letters to Sybil (4)

My dear the winter has come. A cold storm brews over the near horizon. There is a feeling of silence, awe and fear of death. The men have been seized; some have become immutable. I am held by the peace of providence; the surety of summer after tearful spring. The drama which was long written by transcendent hands will at last be acted by mortal souls. 

My dear, the sun is going down, you will be alright. We will be amidst a horrible scene, you will be safe and sound. My eyes will close before it all begins, praying that victory will be ours so that this repulsive sacrilege will never reach your shores. Your words and beauty have captured me. Do not look out of your window before the battle begins at dusk. Sleep. Everything will be all right. Trouble not your heart, you believe in God. Take that passage of scripture which says ‘do not worry’. Take it to sleep with you and wake up with the blessed promise, ‘in all things God works for the good of those who love him.’ When you wake, kiss the sunrise on my behalf, let the light warm your soul caressing the hope of my survival in you. 

I shall write you again in two days. This I do not doubt.

Your Love and Beloved



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