Tuesday, 8 September 2015

I knew a sad boy: No where to go with his life

I knew a very sad boy who told me that he had no where to go with his life, that there was no future for him. His brown eyes was continually teary even at the best of times. He told me,

"Sir, I have nowhere to go with my life. I just want to die, halt my step and be deceased. For I am a disease, unwanted and unloved. One person said that I was a poison and the other that I had something missing which I could never give. Many others looked at me with eyes of scorn, labelling me a scum. O sir, my heart is sensitive, and those with whom I have built my hopes have taken a hammer in good cheer and happily broken my home. O what to do sir! I have no hate for them in my heart for I am all those things, vile and evil. I believe as they have said that I could never make anyone happy, and what is living if those that I want to make happy can never be happy with me? One time, I saw in her eyes utter disgust for me, as if I was a filthy stain in her life, an hindrance to her happiness and I saw in his eyes deep anger and bitterness. O Sir, in my heart I feel that I have only done good, but my good is bad, and therefore I ought to perish immediately and kiss this world goodbye. In as much as I wish this feeling to go away, that is the feeling of remembering her, and of them accepting me, this feeling persists and each day rises to new heights that makes me stumble because of the heartache. O sir, my hope is hopeless."

I looked lovingly on the sad boy and pitied him. I wish I could remedy his case, but he was so far gone that I fear in the coming days that I should be summoned to bury him. His case is beyond earth and heaven, only divine hands can change his heart, but also her whom he so loved. Only if she would remain his friend and give him hope, but such is the case with our free-will that no matter how one hopes, it has no affect at all to change a person's affection. Only God can do that.


No comments:

Post a Comment

The tears will not rise

The tears will not rise, not tonight. The joy will outlast the thickened dismissal of my confession. The misgiving of ...