come Home

what if the only thing that fills your heart is disappointment?

what if the only thing that occupies your mind are those pictures of failure?

what if the only thing that floods your memories are words that cut and torment?

what if the only solution was to go back and revisit that place of disappoint, failure, cuts and torment?

as he lay there, amidst the dirt and sweat, hardly having a cover to shield himself from the approaching cold of the night; he lay there pondering his fate.

go back and face the music? go back and have nothing waiting for him?

only a fool would return to a place that he himself had turned his back on.

even now, those words rang in his ears as he fought to shut out those dark memories.

"i just want what is rightfully mine, old man! its mine anyway!"

"just shut up, and give me the money. my ride's waiting for me."

if the words weren't enough, the haunted expression and sadness framed in the eyes of the one he called Father was etched into his soul. he tossed and turned on the straw, trying desperately to shake off that feeling of remorse and guilt.

he could still hear the cries calling him to stop, to reconsider...

to come Home.