Injustice

A morsel of hope rekindles in my heart as I listen to the pulsating beats of the string orchestra that slowly change from a chromatic to major key when my place of loneliness is interrupted by a warm car and a soft hand. But despair dances with my pride and reminds me that our anticipations should not necessarily be our expectations, because they are most likely unattainable. False hope ultimately resides with affliction, bitterness, heartache, regret, animosity, depression. . . the list is incessant. We are compelled to trust, but have learned to be independent. We gradually adapt the mindset that we are sovereign. We finally learn to trust... but in no one but ourselves. What makes this hand she reaches out any different from the rest? Why does this voice declare my worth, when there is a choir of fallen angels who chant differently? The dissension I have about people, love, and religion subsequently leads to vexation and disarray.
Who is to blame?
No one but myself.
I cannot deduce why I am prone to abscond when a remedy for apathy is kindly placed at my feet.
Do nights like these make my time spent with God not expedient? Why does change ensue so slowly? Why is the fervent and robust desire for change not enough?
Injustice...
if a color would be a montage of dark deep bitterness, accented by hews of piercing reds.
What a feeling of hurt,
of pain
of anger this color would hold.
It is not just one color, but a million.
It is not just one feeling but a trillion.

I do not want this color.
I do not want this feeling.

Why must this cloth of injustice suffocate its victims with unprecedented speed,
accuracy, and vengeance ...
Mind you,
vengeance is not due.

Do fate and injustice go hand in hand?
Do they dance, each looking for a partner, a victim?

How do I treat this disease?
How do I subdue the un-subdueable?
How do i challenge the ultimate winner?

What a feeling of insurmountable inferiority injustice offers.
What a bitter treat, a treat not wanted...
but forced to take anyway.

I am the host but I do not wish to have this guest.
I do not want this guest abiding in my house,
in my mind,
in my soul.

I wish I held the power to demand its departure, but I don’t
… and neither do you.
So I tell you, take the hand of injustice,
dance his dance and learn his steps.

Maybe one day you will accept the unacceptable...
and forgive the unforgivable.

Acceptance and forgiveness come with time.
Trust is all I ask for now.