4th Testimony- "The Shovel"

Dear Haides, 

Another cigarette is lit and I am now a smoking chain. I stand on a rock and gaze into the clouds wondering what they would tell me if they could speak. The seamstress of pale soft feather paints the night sky gray. I am smearing my beak into the ground, for it hangs low like my head. How could I enjoy this view for as long as I can when all I can think about is work, stress, and Ezra's revolt.

Menos is one friend that has the same worries as me, but what a good thing that is! He can brighten up as he talks to me about his sadness and fears. Because, after he lets out his problems, he would always give me good advice in return. Reah is also a dark soul, although it is not the sadness that affects her, nor the experiences, but just lost luck. The good thing is that she can joke about anything by the end of the day, directly after the situation.

Laden is always telling us to cheer up and “work with him” as he takes us out of our bad spots and position us into the best. Laden is just the greatest friend and protector we all know. What confuses me is just a slight passion he and Menos also have for Harmonia. Menos had given Myron room and stepped aside, but I cannot figure out what else Laden wants from her, besides a turmoil I had already encountered.

I just wonder if Harmonia is only going through a phase after breaking up with her boyfriend of about five years. She had changed into a more compelling, beautiful and free young lady, but I sense that she is only covering her sadness. Sometimes the human minds are unaware of what they really see. The realization beyond their own conception that even they, themselves, cannot see.

Today I made it clear to Myron and Harmonia not to listen to anybody and to do what they want to do. Myron stood by his window sill and asked me if I felt fine with it. I told him just not to ask, because I am if it kept him content. I was only upset about the idea of the two people I care about hiding their bond away from me when I can see it clearly, more than them being a couple one day. I do not want to dig another hole in the ground. I have yet to bury the other one.

Last night I went out with Ezra, Harmonia, Laden and Menos. Menos and Harmonia did not accept for Ezra to join at first, and apparently they spoke on Laden's behalf also. That was until Laden had said something. He made it clear that he did not want anybody to speak for him and he wanted me to bring him. We had a great night. Ezra got me a second rose. This time the rose had no thorns. He still tries his hardest to be with me and impress me the most he can. Somehow I feel like he just wants to keep me, not be with me.

Leaving me stranded in the dark, multiple times he did not give up on trying to get into my thoughts. He is pretty close but I have to stop this. The plots and conspiracies he implants in his mischievous mind always just shatters in my face most of the time, and that it makes me cry. And on that note, it happens only when I do something under appreciated by his opinions. I still do not know the real Ezra, nor do I wish I did. I hate vengeance and I hate being the victim.

Not too long ago, I spoke to Myron. He was right when he told me he knew what kind of a man he is. And I do not want anybody to tear down my wings and tie them to my feet. It's enough I am falling without being tangled. He is always right. Myron, a man of his own words and a great friend and companion I shall always look up to.

I just wish I knew how to return all the goodness all my dear friends have done. All I can do is sit at their window sills and listen. If I can speak, or if I can fly, I can be of my own words as well. But that just does not seem to be who I am. I am not a leader, just a follower. Haides, you lead me to relief and so does the cigarette that is slowly burning before me. An old man wearing a black cape walked away and lowered his hand. His ashes were flicked towards me like I do not exist; I am dead to the world, Haides. The ashes flew around in circles from the wind as my eyelids slowly shut for a new day. The skies became foggier and it was now filled with gloom. I love night time, no day to worry about and well, the fog does not last long, and nor does the soul. 

No day to worry about.

A day where I have to stop the odyssey through the close-ended tunnel with Ezra, so I can find my safe spot again. I do not want to end up burying my own hole again, for this time it would become my grave- but I cannot seem to put this shovel away.

Unconditionally Yours, 

The Truth

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

"I do not want to end up burying my own hole again, for this time it would become my grave- but I cannot seem to put this shovel away."
The above lines gave reason and purpose for the chapter. You have my complete attention. You are writing a outstanding story. Giving life and reason for the situations and the thoughts. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote