Okay so, this thing just popped into my mind. I hope you all enjoy it!
Sinner or Saint
So then every one of us shall give account of himself to God. – Romans 14:12
Contrary to popular belief, he wouldn't have groveled in dirt to bring back all that was lost. Even at the darkest hour, he wouldn't have begged, like most would have when they fought tooth and nail and then immediately regret it. "The people would rise," he affirmed himself, even so, a dissonant voice hovered in doubt and fear.
Then when time approached, but they did not come. He knew that it was the beginning of their end. He did hope, however. Unlike how that cynic wouldn't have. He had tried to increase the morale, but they were all too convinced that the barricades will be left with only corpse and bones. If not heard in their words, it appeared in their faces.
The night before, they drank wine and sang the harmonies of summer. They relished the spring that's soon to be everlasting. The winds lashed, and with it, blew a circle of merit to the band of friends. They exchanged each other's sorrows and joy in those grins so genuine. When the rain gushed out, in a collaborative effort, they glided across to save the gun-powder. Little did anyone knew, they toasted for their final communion.
Joy could only last so long, as well as optimism.
The National Guard, who marched opposite the barricade, drew their swords and evoked their muskets. A battle cry rose through their hoarse voices as one by one they stood still, and little by little, they faltered. Rue de la Chanvevrie was draped in bursting musket balls and piercing blades, and the face of cowardly strength, but on their faces, emerged the same flame that he always wore. But there's that one last time that their passion was projected into the sky-line.
None of it, though, had evoked in him remorse.
It was all worthwhile, he says.
Judgment day came and he stood tall and proud, through the borders on what was believed to divide heaven and hell. The clouds gave way to The Lamb, alongside the trumpets that blew at all corners of the earth, and with him was the last scroll. Before the hymn was sung, the planes across the earth was devoured into flames and opened up a dark abyss composed of fire and ashes. Out of it, emerged the prince of deceit, whose growl abruptly echoed, who roared like a beast and hissed like a serpent. With those prepared, a thunderous roar overtook the place, and in a little while, it was shrouded in silence.
Each individuals were judged accordingly; the righteous vindicated, and the sinners convicted. It was judgment in its utmost accuracy, the division of good and evil, and in it, face to face, stood Judas and Peter; the extremities of repentance and defiance, of humility and pride.
When his time finally came, The Judge announced, "Your records had been set." And he stepped onwards.
The Judge glanced to The Creator, whom they both shared a nod of understanding.
"And in this time, you decide his fate,
Gabriel Enjolras, is he a sinner or a saint?"