Upon the mighty steed I perch, hyper-aware of the path on which I am about to embark. The names of those who's bones will be crushed under the massive hooves of my equine transport are written upon my heart, for I do not judge the deeds of those who have been singled out just as I do not direct the harbinger of death on which I ride. I do not set him in motion, the reins in my hand seemingly ornamental display; correcting course they do not do well - tremendous nay and neigh, I grasp them solely to survive.
I watch in fear, I watch in glee - some of what transpires is horrific, some is beauty in what I see. I am only a passenger on this horse, piecing together what passes underneath best I can. Some men's deeds are evil, committing evil acts with their own hands, other men are filled with hope and live life the best they can. The beast isn't exactly indiscriminate; neither carefully planned, it appears as adhoc destruction across this fruitful land.
Some grab the bull by the horns in order to actively challenge fate - others stand at arms length simply watching the China shop's destroyed real estate . Jacob wrestled with the angel and was blessed. I don't attempt to steer the steer when I get near, I just grab ahold at adventure's behest.
I volunteered to mount the beast as it traveled across the land, free passage I was told, and I all I had to do was feed and water it from time to time and attempt to keep it under control. But it feeds on the souls of the damned and drinks their rivers of blood - when I made the vow to oversee its journey I was ignorant of its mission. An eye-opening thing to be sure, but its humbled me with its vision.
It can see through people and read their hearts, some are light but most are dark, dark not with evil as were the early ones we trounced, but dim with resentment and hate and anger within those we pounce. I don't always agree with its actions though I have only a modicum of control, but the more he kills and the more blood that spills a trend of patterns begin to emerge and I urge him to continue still.
Without knowing how or even wanting to I've become an ally of sorts in this rampage, for you cannot witness the sheer amount of carnage all the while knowing why without suffering the effects of its damage. I mostly agree with his actions because I've seen inherited generational curse, but I've also learned compassion and empathy - for me an unexpected first.
Sometimes I hate him for what he's put me through. He buildeth up, he teareth down, he appears to some as a demon shrouded in savior's clothing, to others as an expressionless clown. We all only see what we wish to, we all only see what we can. Some of us are crushed with our own creation of despair from thin air, some of us can't imagine a world where hurt or pain exist even as we experience it firsthand.
Sometimes I love him for what he's taught me.
Upon arrival at my destination on the other side of the world, disembark. I volunteered to mount the beast as it traveled across the land, free passage I was told, but please don't misunderstand. While the journey itself was "free" as in no up front payment in silver or in gold, the cost was tremendously high for it cost me a lifetime, and my soul.