Walls obscured with despairs of those

who came before us. The Shadow Angel

greeted us. She spoke of who came before,

to pour their absent spirituality, humanity, life

into the bulwarks of the house. Anguished spirits

entombed to wallow in agonies they experienced in life.

Lost friends, lost loves, lost family,

failed dreams, broken marriages,

squandered prospects, endless loneliness,

every torment was experienced by

those who enter this dwelling.

The air was oppressive, crushing

in like an unyielding obstruction

forcing the air from our lungs.

Light could not penetrate the walls,

or our eyes as we stood in its ebony halls.

How, someone exclaimed,

does one rid this place of all this pain?

The Shadow Angel proclaimed

there must be a cleansing and purifying purge.

Only then the spirits can move on.

Oh, how do we release them? they bellowed

Then a single tear born out

of sympathy and compassion fell;

the surroundings slightly and suddenly

changed. We all began to weep

for the miserable dead,

cleansing with water,

purifying with salt,

made up our tears.

One drop rapidly became a tsunami.

The wave crashed and pummeled

against the walls with vehement vigor.

Then, it was gone.

They started to place picturesque

blissful memories upon the walls:

first snow of winter, first flowers of spring

holding a newborn baby, the bliss of a kiss.

The Shadow Angel expressed these walls would

only absorb the sadness; that joy flowed off

them as if they were coated in paraffin.

And they watched as those images

melting down, disappearing into the ether.

Then what was it all for? they cried.

The Shadow Angel declared, ‘Tis the House of Sorrow.

Its purpose is for those to lay down their pain

when there is no one else to annul it.

Tis here they wait till someone arrives

to wash it away for them.

 I nodded to our angelic host,

then walked out the door. She called out;

do you not wish to imbrue these walls?

I replied no.

I got what I came for, to see if I

could resist temptation. I can let go

of my professional frustrations,

my solitude from others, my imagined failures.

Yes I, like those before me,

and those who will come after

will bring our personal burdens into those walls,

and they remain as they are;

fixed, in stasis, unchanging.

November 2014