Il Spirituale Lottare
Our faces glistened with perspiration as our chests rose and fell heavily. I looked up to survey the scene around me. Some of our wounded brothers staggered to their feet, with determination in their eyes. The night is now upon us, the day passed in a bloody flurry of battle. The enemy has sent wave after wave of their troops to weaken us, for they know we are the stronger warriors. We assemble yet again and face the last onslaught of the enemy. Our cavalry, though now few in number to do much affliction to the enemy’s army, charge towards their ranks. Our cavalry have done all that they could to the enemy as they plow through their ranks. We see the cavalry overwhelmed and fighting for their lives. With all speed we rush to our brother’s aid. With a deafening battle cry we fall upon our enemy with such force that it separates their ranks and throws them into disarray. We reach the cavalry and find that the enemy has devoured some, yet some remain. The enemy falls on us once more. The battle rages on at a furious pace. There have been many casualties, but we are gaining ground. Hope of victory raises my spirits as I see the bright, red sun rising over the distant hill. But I am deceived; it is the torches of another large host of enemies. Enemies much stronger than those we have been fighting. An enemy who’s hearts have been darkened with a desire to destroy and corrupt. They have thrown their weaker troops at us to weaken and tire our ranks. As I turn I see a massive host rapidly advancing on our flank. We are surrounded without hope of escape, nor of survival, yet we stand strong. We must hold! We must fight for truth! We have been drawn into a clever trap by the most devious of all villains. I look over the horizon and see naught but the seemingly endless ranks of the enemy. Where are our comrades? Where are our brothers? Then a familiar face in the enemy’s ranks catches my eye. Can it be? Yea a face I know well, and many others. Some of our brothers have disguised themselves by wearing the garb of the enemy. Betrayal! Deception! The scum will pay for their treachery! Indeed they have done their job too well, for I would not have known the difference between them and our enemy, if I did not know their faces. They watch as one by one we are devoured by the enemy. Those who I called kin! They do not want to compromise themselves or their selfish ambitions. I rally our remaining soldiers with a shout and with a sharp blow on my mighty horn. I shout above the sounds of battle, in a powerful voice I did not know I possessed. Those still loyal to the cross gather about me. We make our last, desperate stand atop a high hill in the middle of the battlefield. The demons fall upon us like rain. We struggle in vain as our strength begins to fail us. Just when all seemed lost and the night was at its darkest, a blinding radiance of the purest Light I had ever seen swept over the battlefield. The brilliant Light seemed sharper than any sword and could pierce to the very heart. When the Light receded all our enemies lay slain upon the ground. The fight has been won for us! Only those who had betrayed us were left. We gave a cheer and shout of triumph. When we looked at each other we saw that our raiment had changed. We were wearing such splendid armor! Made of the finest metals and adorned with the purest gold. Our swords were razor sharp and wonderfully deadly to behold! Our helmets were tall and decorated with magnificent stones of precious jewels! We ourselves also felt stronger and sturdier, not as one feels after fighting a long battle. Our eyes flickered with the remains, or perhaps some lasting reflection, of that Light. Our eyes rested on our brothers who had turned their back on us and the cross. They still had the appearance of the enemy; lucky for them that Christ looks to the heart. We were moved with pity for them, the anger was gone from our hearts. Pity that they had not the faith to stand firm against the enemy. Pity that they could not join us in celebrating our hour of triumph. We were resolved to help them to turn from their wicked ways and return to the path they had once trod. Did they not know? In the end, Christ is victorious.
Our faces glistened with perspiration as our chests rose and fell heavily. I looked up to survey the scene around me. Some of our wounded brothers staggered to their feet, with determination in their eyes. The night is now upon us, the day passed in a bloody flurry of battle. The enemy has sent wave after wave of their troops to weaken us, for they know we are the stronger warriors. We assemble yet again and face the last onslaught of the enemy. Our cavalry, though now few in number to do much affliction to the enemy’s army, charge towards their ranks. Our cavalry have done all that they could to the enemy as they plow through their ranks. We see the cavalry overwhelmed and fighting for their lives. With all speed we rush to our brother’s aid. With a deafening battle cry we fall upon our enemy with such force that it separates their ranks and throws them into disarray. We reach the cavalry and find that the enemy has devoured some, yet some remain. The enemy falls on us once more. The battle rages on at a furious pace. There have been many casualties, but we are gaining ground. Hope of victory raises my spirits as I see the bright, red sun rising over the distant hill. But I am deceived; it is the torches of another large host of enemies. Enemies much stronger than those we have been fighting. An enemy who’s hearts have been darkened with a desire to destroy and corrupt. They have thrown their weaker troops at us to weaken and tire our ranks. As I turn I see a massive host rapidly advancing on our flank. We are surrounded without hope of escape, nor of survival, yet we stand strong. We must hold! We must fight for truth! We have been drawn into a clever trap by the most devious of all villains. I look over the horizon and see naught but the seemingly endless ranks of the enemy. Where are our comrades? Where are our brothers? Then a familiar face in the enemy’s ranks catches my eye. Can it be? Yea a face I know well, and many others. Some of our brothers have disguised themselves by wearing the garb of the enemy. Betrayal! Deception! The scum will pay for their treachery! Indeed they have done their job too well, for I would not have known the difference between them and our enemy, if I did not know their faces. They watch as one by one we are devoured by the enemy. Those who I called kin! They do not want to compromise themselves or their selfish ambitions. I rally our remaining soldiers with a shout and with a sharp blow on my mighty horn. I shout above the sounds of battle, in a powerful voice I did not know I possessed. Those still loyal to the cross gather about me. We make our last, desperate stand atop a high hill in the middle of the battlefield. The demons fall upon us like rain. We struggle in vain as our strength begins to fail us. Just when all seemed lost and the night was at its darkest, a blinding radiance of the purest Light I had ever seen swept over the battlefield. The brilliant Light seemed sharper than any sword and could pierce to the very heart. When the Light receded all our enemies lay slain upon the ground. The fight has been won for us! Only those who had betrayed us were left. We gave a cheer and shout of triumph. When we looked at each other we saw that our raiment had changed. We were wearing such splendid armor! Made of the finest metals and adorned with the purest gold. Our swords were razor sharp and wonderfully deadly to behold! Our helmets were tall and decorated with magnificent stones of precious jewels! We ourselves also felt stronger and sturdier, not as one feels after fighting a long battle. Our eyes flickered with the remains, or perhaps some lasting reflection, of that Light. Our eyes rested on our brothers who had turned their back on us and the cross. They still had the appearance of the enemy; lucky for them that Christ looks to the heart. We were moved with pity for them, the anger was gone from our hearts. Pity that they had not the faith to stand firm against the enemy. Pity that they could not join us in celebrating our hour of triumph. We were resolved to help them to turn from their wicked ways and return to the path they had once trod. Did they not know? In the end, Christ is victorious.
1 comment:
Well portrayed. I could smell the death, see the light and feel the heartbreak. "We were moved with pity for them, the anger was gone from our hearts."
Lord, give us pity.
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