The Romanian-Persian Prince

I didn’t notice I absorbed all of his pain.

His heart became mine and I grieved. I grieved over his suffering, but he did not take notice.

He did not care.

How could he? He has been numb for far too long.

He was incapable of noticing how I grieved over his broken heart; his paralyzed heart did not allow him too.

He admitted once that he was broken, but he could not pinpoint the origin of his suffering. I could.

Not only did I know its origin, but I, I merged with it.

I know the burning fire that comes from being rapped.

I took it upon my shoulders and it slowing bleed into my own heart.

His pain triggered mine.

This is why I loved him so much; because he was a traumatized boy trapped in man’s body. He reminded me of the little girl I once was. I understood his sorrow.

I touched his heart and we exchanged essences that were soon broken.

I loved his essence and he desired mine.

I broke him and so I grieved some more.

We were baby birds without wings in a nest so high above the ground we could not be reached. We were in desperate anguish seeking love and comfort, we sought protection.

I didn’t know that I still carry the stain of pain.

I wanted to take care of him. I wanted to lay him on my breast and give his head eternal rest.

But I remembered that I am not The Savior.

I cried a river.

I grieved in repentance knowing that more than a man I should have loved him as my brother, my brother in Christ Jesus.

He was caught in turmoil because he loved my essence, but despised my identity.

My identity in Christ triggered him.

I absorbed all of his pain triggering mine and so I grew wings and flew away praying deeply he will soar the skies of heaven with us one day.

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