My fears were many

My fears were many

fiction
edward w pritchard

My fears were many but I didn't always have them. I see much and I feel greatly.

To those I have harmed I am so sorry. I must reach out and leave the past. The past is mutely haunting. The past whispers to me in a foreign language.

Over the next hill I can see the sunrise, I hear an old song as I march. It is reassuring though the words are not clear. I walk toward an unknown destination with a budding hint of a smile. It is a forgotten smile waiting to emerge.

Should I see one in pain I will reach out, should I experience your suffering I will soothe you. Excuse me I must walk forward. I hear the wind whisper, I see the red dawn. Life slips away, I must walk purposefully.