April 6, 2015: To The Dark Tower

He sits and stares at a picture taped to the otherwise bare wall.
It’s of a young him (I assume) and a young girl playing in a field with tall grass and wild flowers.

He wipes his tears on his tattered sleeve and bows his head.

My first thought was that he lied.
I swallowed my pride and walked the way he pointed.
There was no pride or hope in finding my way…
…just a sort of gladness that the end might be near.

He looks off into the distance, a dreamy look on his face.
His armor is rusted, tarnished, missing pieces.
His sword looks blunt, old.

My brothers and I…we searched and searched for a world that might not exist.
Perhaps I should look further away…some other land.
But he told me the entrance was here, so there is no place I’d rather be.

I look out the window of the small apartment. Outside I can see a large group climbing over the hills. A black parade bringing doom with their banners and drums.

Do I love her?
What can I say?
It was just one of those games that we played…and then she was gone.

I can still hear her crying…but, I’m not ready to play my new song. Not yet.

I noticed blood. Dripping from his hand. He touches it, looks at his fingertips, then wipes it away.

The black parade is advancing. I see recognition in his face. He knows some of them, or at least one of them. A giant man riding a horse in the background, a white flower on his black standard.

He places his horn to his lips, he kisses the ivory mouthpiece and lets out a little laugh and blows as hard as he can.
The sound is awful. A clarion call. The sound of a star imploding.
His eyes and nose are bleeding, but he’s sustaining the note.

The sound is of one asking for forgiveness, of one asking to be held once again.
His face is turning purple. The note drops and a sadness fills the small room.
His ears begin to bleed and he collapses to the floor.

I’ve heard his stories. How brave he was.
But the bell rang out and his trumpet blew.
He lay on the floor, his memories and adventures bleeding out.
He looked like a child, a lost child…a small smile on his face as if he finally found what he was looking for.

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