Set free from self invented or dominion encouraged prison. No longer mired in the fiery clay of my own deceit. Reaching down to rub the blistered and raw skin around my ankles where shackles had been I weep for a time, smile again then collapse to pleasant slumber. How long have I raged with demons pressing to come to surface and show themselves to the world of men through my faculties? How many times have I awoken the following morning begging God for intervention only to revisit my own vomit nightly? They don’t like me when I am this way, loving me for who I am when not entranced, yet I cannot sway the hand of my unbridled rage. This was the nightmare, now to the dream.

Set free to think in peaceful, accountable and hopeful terms. Using words selectively with control of this grand weaponry, my tongue, I encourage, build and edify, where previously each syllable sought destruction. What now that I am in charge of my own free will, making decisions within reason and God aligned discernment? Where do I go with this power, this fortitude and courage, no longer willing or capable of blaming the world and all in it for my losses or abominable circumstance? What is freedom and how should it be used? Shall I buy this and squander that on the way to over indulgence? Perhaps, but reason begs a mature approach. On to memory of a forgotten dream repressed in the nightmare of ages, my tumult. What was it that I remember as a child, rang repeatedly in my noggin, as if a whisper from Almighty God in the womb, the purpose of my sanctification? Oh, now I remember.

They rage, because they cannot break the bonds to midnight. In my prayers God bids me recall my own divination. What now that we have been set free to pursue the righteous things of God? Shall I go look upon my own visage in the mirror, reflecting upon need upon need, upon want, or lose the sight of self focus to concentrate on freeing captives without intervention shall remain in bondage, beyond hope or reason? They struggle, they rage, they wake in the mornings surrounded in their own desperate tears. You know it, I know it because we have done it, been there and understand the regret and self conviction upon which God’s enemy’s feed. We are refuse to them, garbage to throw lifeless at God’s Feet to somehow accuse Him of faulty Creation, when what He made was good. I cannot stand bye and see them wheelbarrow another human that I could have helped to dump them lifeless or sodden at God’s Throne. This is the war, God’s War, a War for the heart and soul of mankind, to save not to condemn. This is the purpose that Little Boy recalled, protect and Love them, He told me and for that I was designed.