The Will And The Wall

 

As I sit in front of the computer, a large block of text remains untouched. It’s been like that for the last four hours. Some would see it as meaningless letters, some would be impressed by its literacy, but those like me see it as a wall. A wall woven together by my own hands. No chisel of mine is able to rework the wall. My brain feels heavy and dull. The black, Georgia, type font looks dead, asking for life to be breathed upon it. But I don’t know how. Or do I?

Reading over the text again, I see only its misspelled words, poor phrasing, and misplaced punctuation. The hot cocoa by my right hand loses any sweetness infused into it.

Come on self, you know what’s happening, get over it and write, pour your spirit into this work, show its beauty. Remember that theme song from the movie last night? Yes, you do. Put it on.

Switching tabs, I pull up youtube. Don’t worry, it won’t distract you. My fingers type the name, Let Beauty Replace the Darkness.  I close my eyes as the video loads, putting my earbuds in. At first comes only the sound of a single violin, then the drum, followed by a fiddle…

Soon my brain fills with orchestra, telling the tales of battle, love, peace, and triumph, all entwined by threads of sorrow. Forgetting the wall, my dancing fingers move past it.

When the song ends, I realize my eyes have been closed the whole time, and the block of text was reformed. Whoa! I accomplished that in five minutes!?

Here is my triumph:

In the very heart of a mountain,

Warrior’s stand to guard the fountain.

Their spears are keen and shields do shine,

When formed as one to make a line.

 

Prepared for death, to save the land,

Faces grim, the final stand.

As the enemy comes, a wave of darkness,

A monster calls with shriek so heartless.

 

Without shudder they hold their post,

Ready they seem to fight a ghost.

Eyes ablaze, as pointed spear,

They brace themselves, for life so dear.

 

A troll leaps forth and swings his club,

It hits a shield and turns to stub.

That warrior thrusts out his spear,

Impaling troll, imbuing fear.

 

Beast aplenty, the men all fight,

Ever standing, a wall of might.

Shields locked tight, arms unyielding,

Skill unmatched, in weapons wielding.

 

At the break of dawn, next day,

The last of monsters falls like clay.

Soldiers turn in wonder great,

Calming from amazing hate.

 

The Fountain remains untouched by hands;

Protected from the fouled lands.

Corpses lay in many places

Killed and stopped by graceless faces.

 

Though none were killed,

Warriors dropped, in need to be healed.

Blessed battle they did fight,

Given strength throughout the night.

 

Eyes alight, I stand up straight, stretching my back. The joy of triumph covers my face. The enemy defeated, “Take that!” I say, drinking down the last of my sweet cocoa.

The End