Weight of Darkness

Excerpt from Ponchatoula, a short story:

Awakened from a disturbing dream of not knowing the true path of the past and how my hands had affected someone else's journey is both sobering and riveting to say the least. I believed that I have always been pure, but forgot, albeit conveniently, about the times that my blood had been washed away in private from the actions that I would never want exposed, never want tied to my walk. The scenes overplayed and unrehearsed in my mind continue to spin from reel to reel with an ominous metal clacking that hearkens me back to times in which the pleasure of the role justified the guilt that I feel, even today. Could I truly be responsible for increasing the pain of the downtrodden and vulnerable?  I truly did care, at least as much I had the capacity to do so at that juncture. Ashamed of her own past, she hid her home, her kin from my eyes, never believing it was enough, that she was enough. Perhaps in the end, it never truly was.

I even believed for a short while that I was making something better than it had ever been and even gestured about how my white horse would lay peace to the valley that had been riddled with such dismay, famine and abuse. My own arrogance in these moments never ceased to amaze me nor offer allowances for the certain absolution that would never arrive. However at the end of my ride, my steed had darkened, the seals had been removed, and the ashes from the torches that I lit were ever-present upon my pale skin, even at dark from a distance. As the fires burned, and screams of fear played out behind me, I rode away stopping only briefly at the stream to rinse and erase the memories of those moments. For that town, those eyes, I would never gaze upon again...never would passage be allowed back into these parts, and I would forever be remembered with disdain and regret. Alas, news stops at the edge of this village, so I had nothing to fear moving forward.

Restoring order was as simple as never looking back, I surmised.

As I now bear the impact of these misdeeds, I attempt to place weights upon the scales of justice to balance out my own feeble culpability with her own inability to recognize my absence of truth. Perhaps, we both knew where this would lead upon its shaky commencement. Perhaps, I was blinded by the pursuit of my own desires and now I seek forgiveness to soothe my aching soul and to restore balance to hers. Unknowingly, I now stumble restlessly through the night, scribing words of regret upon parchment, believing her words, now in complete earnest......

Truth only resides in the darkness. 

Truth is as rare as it is beautiful. Truth is as revealing as it is sanctifying.
Faith in its presence will truly lead you home and guide you towards forgiveness.

As I close my eyes before you, I ask humbly, please forgive me....