As we traverse through life, we will surely come across some sort of obstacle, in one form or another. It is then that we wish we could have a place or sanctuary to retreat to and pay no heed to our worries and drown our sorrows.
A lone stranger walks down a narrow street in the heart of London. High above, like escorts, falcons hover. It has been rumoured that he came from some dark, distant, war-torn place. Only two things are fairly certain about this stranger. One, he is no stranger to battle and two, he has of a heart of stone.
Sidewalks echo footsteps of, what was once, uniformed marching of the 1st Infantry Division. Years of service to country and in the end all he received was a "Thank You, Sir!", his severance pay and a pat on the back from some paper pusher wearing a fake smile.
All his life he has seen violence, bloodshed and grief...it begs the question - which is more scarred? His body or his mind? Once in a while, his mind wanders off to that gay time in 1917 when The Big One was first formed and they were sent in to help the allied powers. His first sight was that of headless bodies and dismembered corpses...the perfect welcome scene isn't it?Nightmares soon haunted our soldier. Many a night he would awake in his bunk horrified by the images of those who he could not save.
Down the street, our stranger enters a bar to drown his troubles. Not a day goes by that he doesn't wish to turn back time and make things right. Falcons outside take perch on roof tops and street lamps.
As the stranger downs his last glass, he makes for the entrance. Freyja marks him as he exits the bar. She does not forget those who escaped her.
The stranger was never to be seen after that day. Many fabricated their own myths and legends about him. Some say that you can still hear the sound of boots marching down as the sun sets.
But, I would much rather believe our stranger has gone to a sanctuary of his own...one that has neither limit nor bounds.
I do not have the luxury of a perfect life, nor do I have the desire to see it through anymore...
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