I have felt the embrace from pure evil. It waited. It lurked. It was not a warm embrace, but a starkly cold whisper that chilled my spirit. It rarely appeared as a whole, preferring to nibble at the soul’s edges until there was nothing left for it to feed. The bones had been bleached white. It whispered final instructions, and then disappeared. But then the sun came up.
Without the bright light from the choice to seek love and happiness, darkness grows; it grows, it billows charred black smoke within the invisible heart and eventually the metastasis crowds-out self-worth, and leaves behind an empty shell, a carcass with a certain numbness that devours all the nearby light like a constantly feeding black hole.
But then from the event horizon a spark, a candle lit for a mortal soul. A warm flame stands tall from the black wax tip as the reflected colors push back against darkness. And the sun rises. As the eternal struggle marches forward, the battle can be won before the fight. The fuel to feed the flame is the simple prayer for peace. It is a child’s innocent giggle. It is the friendship hug. It is holding a trembling hand. It is the silence from listening. It is the encouraging, “I believe in you”. And as the flame grows from more fuel, then quickly the blaze spreads to cast a vision for the union of smiling souls, all possessed with a humble certainty that chases evil back into its dead hole.
But evil waits for the fatherless child. It whispers a false narrative. It is patient. And it lurks just beyond the light spectrum but held at bay from an ever vigilant eternal flame.