To whomever receives this letter.

Adrift amidst eternal seas, this borrowed body trembles. With desperate gasps and endless pleas I fear the ocean's won our soul; a tender babe, a fleshly thing, we never saw our own demise. And even now, beneath the deep lie bodies unidentified. Far off, a piece of solid ground perhaps is seen but never found, just stories, fables, tales of myth, there is no place other than here. Our town lives on these shifting waters, the tide to determine our fate. Thousands of souls with nowhere to go drives many to plunge to the deep. 


The dangers underneath our feet are trivial when one does think of sinful, ugly tendencies. The maidens beaten, children bruised, the men aboard are heartless brutes, when I lay down in hopes to sleep the pillow hardly muffles screams. Off this wretched plank of wood! Perhaps somewhere there is a "good" and "bad" and justice will prevail, O little faith I wish I had. When spoken are my deepest thoughts, flogged and mocked is their response, I see no end, where can I go? Only hope is not my foe. Can this heart be more than flesh and blood and sin? Are tears and cries an illusion from the reality that is? Forever to escape and see a sight other than sex and blood and children hurt, how can this much endure...


Across the water sound breaks forth, a deep and roaring angry voice. The words are distant in my ears while colors light the sky above my head. Stars descend and planets rage, the whole earth overcome by plague, I hardly see and stripped of breath I fall down on my face. I wait without a word to speak preparing for the death of me; the others speechless, faces white, their eyes speak endless words of fright. Around me men are taken up and thrown into the sun above while women, children, and the like are weeping, waiting turns to die.


The wait is short but not at all, what will the gods decide? Will we be burned or tortured still, will anyone survive? What happens next I don't expect the sky melts down to blue, a calming wave takes us across the ocean towards the moon. But what is this, a brownish dot, it seems to grow in size. How can this be? A solid thing, grows big before my eyes. Can myth be fact, is it a dream, I cannot seem to explain my feelings.

Oh! Along this solid shore are faces such as mine, disoriented understates my fragile state of mind. A celebration for our nation, they greet us with a kiss. We're wrapped in robes and fed some "fruit", and my, it's quite delicious. I've hardly time to think at all when I see Him arise. They call Him "Isa", humble king, I see it in his guise. Twas Him who rescued I from death, the ruthless prince of sin. And when alone a question thrown, "Why me? Why save my kin?" His answer wise, his voice so stern, he turned to see my face. A tired, weary, broken man whose only life was pain. He said, 

"Shalom my boy, shalom indeed. How could I watch my children bleed? You're home now child, your worries gone, now come embrace your Father, son."

I'll ne'er forget that lovely day, 800 years ago I came. The Island bears no hurt, no thorns; our Isa reigns, and we're adorned. Still once a day He leaves the land to save another hopeless clan. And now I end this letter friend, the party's starting, new lives begin.

With adoration,
Charis the Beloved