I feared that one day harloting would be a family business. My father’s culture taught us no such thing yet I slept, ate, drank whoredom.

May his tears rest in perfect peace. It was still in mid-day. I saw the brightest of Suns I had ever seen. It was hot and so sweaty I longed for a drink. Life was as a parchy wasteland and nothing seemed to be of more importance than a shade. My heart was scorched and broken but so bloody was my history.

Just along the same road while I thread my way home, the most wretched being I had ever seen, tears constantly on his cheek rolled and dried for reason of the heat. I wondered majorly why he kept crying seeing the tears barely flowed beyond his cheeks. He was sorrow of the gravest Nature. I had met him once but never discerned his form. It was he that dark evil night when I heard the widow’s shriek and the wail of the orphaned.

Then with his haggard frame he was barefoot, all his steps were in pain and they told of my horrors, how my sisters and I, the nations of the earth had dispersed our virtues to all of the darkest passions that could ever be found. Devouring the soul of the greedy, the drive for more than life can give, the wide mouth of the covetous and the never ending fierceness of the aggressive ones. Harloting suited me and my sisters loved the dark. We had our own eyes tied to our hind-parts and would only seek the sating of our every craving.

Then he smiled at me, made a cup of his hands and then the tears flowed and he gave me drink. It was the sweetest melody, I found the gates of heaven opened through a meek soul, one who cried is heart out that peace may live, the girl who would give her eyes no sleep till her siblings fed. The heart of the noble wretch who had no money but had the gift of a gentle spirit, the only gift he could offer his heir, his own son despised his frame but he forever loved.

Today, the Sun scorches still but the harlot in me died. I saw his face and in the wrinkling face was a glow that rend my heart, paved a way to my saving.

“You gave us tears for food, and
You made us drink them in
Bowlfuls” … Psalm 80:5

Make your personal re-decisions with a reflection of the failures you have had, learn from the tears you have shed, never forget why you cried. When the sun shines again, all your tears will be gone but never forget how the tears flowed.

Dami de furst ¤Writz¤