Falling/Rising

A Devil in the Valley

It's not fair, is it?

Not much is.
When you go in today
and face the work, the pain, the suffering
you think of this.
Of us.
Of me.

Who am I?

You should ask that of yourself.
Your worth is measured in moments spent
with someone else,
in how deeply you can be with someone else,
in someone else.

Is that fair?

I've struck a nerve.
Good.
Feel that and know it, because
pain is what you need
right now.

What's that look in your eye?

I've seen it before,
on the face of an angel who thought
he deserved something,
knew something,
more than anyone else.

Do you hate me?

Maybe.
I don't hate you,
I'm just a fragment.
Just a mirror, reflection of a
thousand voices you have heard before.

So why do I say this?
Why do I bother?
Why do you bother?

When all of this hurts
and stays the same.

Cold comfort I know,
but I say this with feeling,
that more of you knows there's
purpose in suffering.
In this suffering.

Will you grow old?
Will you be abandoned?
Will you feel empty at the end of this road?

I don't know,
nor do you.
But that can't be what stops you.
Nothing's forgone that hasn't yet happened.
I see your fall, angel,
I've been here, foretold it.
But when you land cruelly,
when your wings are spread, clipped,
remember that look.
Remember it sharply.

Is this where you're going?

Or from which you're coming?