Bewildering Stories

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Hope

by Jonathan Isenor

He was created to be a weapon,
He was made to destroy,
They tried to program him,
He wasn't superhuman though,
What they made was a man with a heart,

But to them he was a defect, a failure, a nobody, he was weakling,
Soldiers took him to a rocky cliff,
This is where everything would change in one crushing moment,
They threw him off the cliff in hopes of ending his life,
They wanted him dead,

Little did they know at the moment they threw him,
The human spirit inside the man burned brighter then it ever did,
He hit the ground with a hard thud,
His back felt as if it was broken in half,
His knees felt weak with little movement,

He awoke to the sound of rushing water,
He pushed a strand of his spiky black hair out of his face,
He looked up only to see a large blue waterfall,
Under normal circumstances the man would have called it beautiful,
He was hurting, but he was still alive, they hadn't finished him,

What they had done was not enough to finish him,
For he was still breathing and moving,
His green eyes held his desire to live,
They could not finish him,
For the fire inside of him burned brightly,

The sun was black with gray clouds hiding the sun,
It all seemed worthless,
His body was broken, His heart was broken,
But his soul was not,

Using his arms he pushed himself up off the cold hard ground,
Then he slid his knees up underneath himself,
In one glorious moment he stood up,
He was rigid, but he was standing,
Then he saw it, the cliff they had thrown him off,

He decided right then and there that he was going to conquer that cliff,
That was his goal and he was going to do it,
He started walking towards the cliff but he fell down,
That didn't stop him though,
He crawled until he got to the cliff,

Then he stood up facing the gray unforgiving cliff,
Pain jumped throughout his body as he grabbed onto a stony ledge,
He began pulling himself up the cliff,
Occasionally he'd fall a bit, but he always regained his composure,
He kept going until he reached the top,

That day the man they called a failure, a defect, a nobody, a weakling,
Showed that what they did was not enough to eliminate him,
As he climbed up his hill.

 

Copyright © 2002 by Jonathan Isenor