From: ex PFC Shierling, J. 16 CAB S-2 Analyst
To: Screwtape, Undersecretary, Hell CENTCOM
Date: 2015/02/14
Subject: Poor Methodology

My Dear Screwtape,

I must congratulate you on the position you've managed to hold intact for so many years. A fantastic strategic gamble to allow your correspondence with your nephew Wormword to have become published. The Patient's individual soul may have been taken in by your Enemy Himself, but the allowance of C.S. Lewis to come by those letters and publish them served you very well in it's purpose I suppose. Those souls already lost to your Enemy were confirmed, but those teetering on the edge of belief and hope in Him were turned away by such a blatant portrayal of human fallacies. Truly, your gamble may have been worth it...time will yet tell. But Screwtape, or whichever of his underlings has been assigned to break me, my own life is all I am responsible for. It's a great weapon you devised, this idea that individual humans are responsible for the actions of our entire race, that one of us is guilty of all. Yes indeed, self hate is the quickest way to your master's chains. Honestly though, your CENTCOM failed in the directives and the propaganda they fed you. Though you and your underlings may have experienced the War in Heaven, and that terrible retreat to the outer realm, I can say with absolute certainty that you were deceived in the beginning. I am imperfect, and everyday that I live I know this, and I also know that I will never be able to know the things that your Great Enemy knows, but I accept this. Nothing that you and your kind can do to me shall prevent me from looking to the stars, no pain could your broken spirits do unto me to take my hope in my Father, who is also called Love. And yet, weren't you punished by your own Chain-of-Command? Were you not tortured by those you gave loyalty to for giving Wormwood your nephew advise about your Enemy. Perhaps I, being human, have no right to cast judgement upon those who have walked about my people. All I have left to write tonight; should you grow tired of the horrors you and your kin live every day...ask of me, and we shall welcome you among those yet seeking.

Unfurl your hands to me, Grandmama.
Your hands are browned and gnarled,
yet textured by age
as pressed flower petals.

O tell me the story of a soul:
As mysterious and delicate
as the heart of a rose,
And yet as always,
as strong as oak.

i'm still numb to everything that happened between us
whether those 5 years were love or lust
i know that i love you and that will never fade away
from every tomorrow to our every yesterday
we have invested so much of ourselves into what we have now
we split apart
and we are now lost somehow
where did you go
i am alone and in a daze
every day i face is a complete and saddened haze
but move forward i must
and move on i shall
who knows maybe in my future you will be
looking at me like you used to
eyes full of love
a heart for the future
but little did we know it wouldn't be
that there was an end to you and me
but enough reminiscing and il wipe my tears.
i love you always and forever, for all the following years.

undress the burden that you wear
leave it rot on wetland
be thin and simple when you'll travel,
all the ways are now more narrow
choose the best entrance between all,
stick with it until you will find
a sense of peace in your remained heart.