ZD-RPG-8: 9-4-2008"Are you hopeful?" The words sunk in like a cement millstone about my neck, dragging me down. A millstone that would almost certainly drown me, should I decide to take the plunge into the frigid unknown. My heart began thumping so loudly, I was sure Daemon could hear it. Almost at the edge of my perception, his hand slipped into mine and squeezed tightly. Whatever my choice, I knew my friend stood beside me. I studied the middle-aged angel of doom standing before us. "You will be hated, persecuted, despised, and probably killed," he had said, almost prophetically. "I won't distort the truth of the matter." Certainly kind of him to put into words what I'd always known. The possibility of death surrounded us every day, permeating our very existence like a slow-working virus. Again his words rang in my ears: "Are you hopeful?" he repeated, eyes boring into mine. "Hope: It's what life is built on these days, and I want to know
Parting WaysAs we parted ways last night,I watched you cry.For the first time,I saw the tears roll down your face,And my heart broke again.Walking 'cross the lawn,I looked back.You were standing,Silhouetted in the doorway,Lost and so alone.I hope you saw my eyes.They were saying"I'll be back."But could you seeThe message they held,Behind my own tears?I hope so...-S.P.