A young woman recalls the night an old man shared a secret with her when she was a little girl, a curse that has haunted her ever since.

Memories whistle past me, like a freight train in the night
‘Til moments of old, from a story told, stops me cold in frozen sight

I wander from bed to the swing in my yard, as visions rally about my head
For comforted I am when I go to swing, hoping for sweeter thoughts instead

But my mind can’t shield that fateful day, when the old man told me to settle in
“Hush...” , he whispered as he raised his gaze, and begin he did to call on the wind

I wrap my arms around me now, the swing stops as I cry in the dark
And these thoughts that touch me are just too much for me, for history has left its mark

Again the wind gathers around, as it did when he shared his tale
He was none too proud as he spoke aloud, of his curse, wrought from Hell:

"Each night when I lay down to sleep, I am cursed to witness our history past,
but only the bad, the tragic and sad, ‘til morning the nightmares last.
You cannot imagine, nor possibly fathom, the things my mind has seen.
I’ll take you there, but you must prepare, for these visions may make you scream."

"I feel the pain of the man/GOD, and the weight that He alone bears.
Not just the cross that He struggles to carry, nor even the hateful stares;
nor spat at, kicked down, stoned in the back, nor nailed upon the wooden T...
no, He was crucified before my eyes, so He could save humanity."

"Spring 1348, Cairo, Egypt. The Black Plague strikes us down.
Rats and fleas spread this disease, and there’s no cure to be found.
Seven thousand a day, die an awful way, makes the toughest cry like children in bed.
For I see necks swell, explode and spill, blood gushing from the already dead."

"Its 1459, Brasov, Transylvania, St. Bartholomew’s Day.
The Lord of Cruel, Vlad Dracul, the Impaler has come to slay.
Thirty thousand souls put to the stake... women, children and men.
The pitiful sounds. The screams won’t stop! Merciful GOD, please let it end!"

"Taken by slave ship across the sea to a world much different than mine.
Bought and sold, just four years old, my whole family left behind.
At nine, I tried my best to run away, but the Master sent dogs and men. 
The man wasn’t pleased, he cut my legs to the knees, so I’d never run from him again."

"Six-sided stars upon our chests, yellow suns to mark our faith.
Hoarded like cattle to Concentration Camps, giant ovens to light the way.
No food, no hope, just skin and bones, and no need now to pretend.
My time has come to be burned alive, but now I see Death as a friend."

"I’ve shared with you, so you might see, and feel my pain and misery.
Now that you’ve seen, can you understand why? I can’t escape, not until I die!"


And now old man, neither can I

The End

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