Youthful bliss fills the vacant plane with prosperity.
Possibilities endless with the promotion of vast opportunity.
A future worth everything.
The child plays tag with their friends and rushes into the commotion of being young.
Speak with the boy, laugh with the girl, live free.
Grow up big and strong like your dad, grow up loving like your mother.
Rejoice in family, divine the word of happiness and spread it freely.
Life can be enjoyed in its simplicity.

The child's wings opened and off they soared into the sky.
The world fluttered open in expanse.
Almost overwhelming, but exciting. Really exciting.
Chance came in opportunity.
Choice came in freedom.
And the doors opened for the child and beauty flashed something new.

Sometimes bumps happen when you least expect it…

Stacks and stacks of rapid gusts go unnoticed.
The transparent land grows heavy, bruised by shadow
The mind-forged manacle lusts for the enemy within, not yet locked
Obtuse scorpions fester in the hand of the sickly, still alive, still capable of stinging.
Help came in presence yet came neglected by the growing child.
The clock ticks hours, days, weeks, months. No change. Where does it come? Where’s the same prosperous joy?

Doors close with a flourish of dusts formed slowly
Moving feels irregular...almost alien in nature.
Warmth turns cold---the knife cuts through the chilling cold---until nothing remains of the child who cried in joy.

The Child sits on the jagged edge, alone and frightened.
Rain dropped and fell with the clatter of ice.
The bell chimes: the reaper unsheathes its scythe,
Ready to collect its damning debt.
In the sin of impulse, the Child felt christened.
The edge’s pickaxe mined until it crumbled and fell, crumbled and fell and crumbled and fell.
The Child remembers the swarming memories of their childhood. The friends who cherished them, the family who loves them, the salvation of hope!

The devil perched on their right shoulder, seducing the child with alluring whispers. ‘Jump, fly, be free my child. The worlds weight has crushed you. Let it starve from your freedom.”

The Devil awaited their decision.

The methodical hum of angels rushed to their right shoulder and spoke with an icy calm.

“Life is cherished by the purpose of love, the world continues the same cycle within small packs of ants, but the hope of the colony fades into the same darkness with the absence of its queen. Nature is inevitable, life is yours, love is eternal. Be with those you love, let them carry you out of misery. Let them teach you the baby steps again until you walk amongst individuals feeling joy. Break the mind-forged manacle. Life is not easy, it never is. You can only define yourself; freedom comes in the willingness to try.

Will you jump off the edge, or will you climb back to the summit?” The angel asked, patiently, letting them decide. Then, as if it were all dream, the angel faded into nothingness. And so did the devil.

The sky cleared herself, fanning her curtains in a golden sheen of
Hope. The edge still tempts them.
But they only looked up and climbed back inside, the darkness still
Heavy in their mind, but, inside, their messy room greets them warmly,
Ready to resist.