Evil Must Not Pass
There is goodness and there is evil.
One bright and beautiful, one dark and frightening.
Between the brightness and the darkness is a barren, cold, gray land.
Most call it Hell. He calls it Home.
He stands alone. Evil must not pass.
The cursed, the blessed.
He alone can face evil and not loose himself to its darkness.
He can look at the brightness and enjoy its beauty, its peace.
But with the beauty comes pain, to remind him he must not get lost to the light.
He stands alone. Evil must not pass.
During a quiet moment, he rests, body held ever ready for battle.
He stares up at the garden, awed by its beauty and peace.
He has fought and bled for that peace.
But it is not for him.
He stands alone. Evil must not pass.
From the garden she sees him, hunkered down, watching.
She is drawn to him.
As she steps from the garden, he stands and turns away.
She does not stop, but quickens her pace.
He stands alone. Evil must not pass.
Renewed, he braces himself to face the coming darkness.
He will not give ground. He will push evil back.
He moves forward, putting as much distance as he can between himself and the garden.
Knowing each step he takes will put him farther from her.
He stands alone. Evil must not pass.
The others call out to her from the garden.
They warn her that he is where evil begins.
But she knows that he is where evil ends.
The peace and beauty she has always known is his gift to her.
He stands alone. Evil must not pass.
She can not watch him fight alone.
She joins him on the lonely ridge, in the bitterly cold wind.
She will stand by his side.
She will join him as he fights the battle against evil.
They stand together. Evil will not pass.