Hope

2017 B.C.E...

Young Adam was a runner… had the sharpest eyes,
Used to run like the lightning.
One day he noticed a mustache grow on his lip,
And there was an earthquake the same day.

His people started looking at him differently,
He didn’t change… but everyone else did.
He was celebrated… which he felt rum,
As they pushed him forcefully out of their hut.

All that there was, was blank sand as far as his eye could see,
And a cross lay in front of him.
Celebrations continued as he was pulled towards it,
Why would his own people celebrate his crucifixion? He wondered.
 
He saw million others carrying the cross,
Dragging through the black sand all around him.
He was afraid of the pain it causes him,
He was afraid he could never run with this giant cross on him.

So he ran… and reasoned with everyone,
No matter the caste, creed or color.
Reasoned that he had dreams… and aliens to help,
Reasoned that there was more for him to do.

His sharp eyes saw blue, and green,
On either side of the horizon.
He believed by running he can reach them,
And so he reasoned with humans.

It bear no fruit,
People shunned him for not carrying the cross.
In exhaustion, for his people,
One day he took it upon him.

And dragged for miles and years long,
Leaving his footprints in the black sand.
For every mile he walked,
A golden coin materialized on the right side of his cross.

His people never felt enough… wanted more,
So he walked and walked,
His people were sporadically happy… wanting more,
So he walked and walked.

His people never spoke with the aliens,
But his heart yearned for the unfortunate.
Something deep inside him moved at the sight of  suffering,
So he took the aliens’ burden too… as much as he can.

Looking at his never happy people,
He wondered was it for.
Looking at the million other doing it,
He thought this was happiness.

He stopped reasoning… never complained there on after,
He walked and walked.
A sudden thought disturbed him,
People shunned when he didn’t carry the cross… but none thanked him for bearing it now.

His own people despised him for helping aliens,
As every help bought a black ribbon on the left side of the cross which slowed his walk.
War-ridden with himself quietly,
He continued to walk for his people and the aliens… quietly, quietly.

He walked for centuries long… for his people,
He noticed that his footprints faded in the sand… quietly.
Then one day… all of a sudden he couldn’t feel the cross,
His body humped with all the weight slowly started stiffening as it healed.

Worried for his people… and the aliens,
He turned around.
The drag-marks and footprints vanished,
His people fought for coins on the right and aliens fought against the ribbons on the left.

He was still quite,
not by will but with an empty mouth,
A sudden blinding white light enclosed him,
And the light spoke… “I acknowledge you.”