The night the wall came down

The night the wall came down
he stood in front of me and called my name.

“Come closer”, he said,
beckoning, bidding me to draw near.

He held a flickering candle in his hand
that glowed more brilliantly
than the light of a thousand suns.

I stood there, paralyzed with fear,
paralyzed after the shouts,
the praise-songs,
the cymbal-crashes,
the blaring trumpets
had shattered the silence I once knew.

"Come closer”, he said,
“I have come to liberate you”.

Again, he beckoned to me,
tenderly pleading my name.

I looked around the vast, smoldering ruins
of everything that I had built.
Brick upon brick lay in the streets,
mingled with faeces, urine, blood,
and broken concrete.

It was all gone, reduced to rubble,
ashes, dust, flames, and destruction.

This was the cost of my liberation?
The sacrifice I had to make?
The price I had to pay?

“Then I will come closer”, he said,
“I will not hurt you.”

He spoke my name.

I stared at him blankly,
as he stepped over where the wall once stood
and drew closer to me.
He covered me with his coat
handed me the candle,
and held me close.

He whispered my name.

I raised my head and looked at the stars.
I turned to him,
and shedding a tear,
I said softly,
ever so softly,
piercing the quiet between us,
“Please, sir, I’ve forgotten my name.”

Copyright © 2012 Joshua Ligan.