There was indeed something missing in the painting I stared upon, something to help describewhat our country was going through. My painting depicted a dark lane, with no illumination except from a flickering street lamp. The sky was of a dark shade of blue, starless and moonless. The walls of the narrow street were withered and week, with vandalism all over it. The walls were the only borders, there were no buildings in the vicinity of the area
The street was narrow, it couldn't even support a car, there were no means of passing. On the side walk sat a homeless, abandoned guy. His formal suit was torn some, withered and wet. His face which had a messy beard was wet , an apparent effect to the tears streaming down his face. He wore a torn up cap on his head, as if it was going to do him good, from the look of things, there was no sun for a long time.
I grimaced as I realized what was missing. I dipped my brush in the palette to bring a flesh tone. I drew an outline of a man, scattered on the floor under the street lamp. I then gave him clothes, that were much more ripped than of his comrade's. After painting his hair, I added blood that oozed as a cause of the knife that was sticking out of his head. The body looked pale. The body looked as if it was years old, but, the man still wasn't fully dead, there was still hope.
I imagined myself walking down the street. There was no sound but the wind, which carried the polluted air everywhere. I inhaled dust with every breath, tickling my lungs a harsh tickle, and clogging my nose. The homeless guy was sobbing loudly, muttering "Save him! Save him!"
i took three steps closer to him and asked " who are you? Save whom?"
" they call me many names" he replied hoarsely "one of them is justice"
Shocked i asked” and save who?"
"him! Him!" he growled and pointed behind me " save freedom"
I looked behind me to find a dark body, i traced the lines to his head that was illuminated by the flickering light. A knife was dug deep into his head, blood was pouring in a rapid pace, creating a river of blood beneath him. It was too gruesome for me to resist.
" Save him before it's too late!" he cried
" i can't!" i mumbled.
" believe me you can" the man replied, in a more delicate tone of voice. " promise me you will"
I hesitated, deep into thought and promised him."
The painting explained so much, but it was time to let my hopes rule. I shifted my view to the other canvas and started readying the new colours, this time, i was going to only use bright colors.
I spent hours of swishing and splashing colors everywhere, sometimes if need careful lining, sometimes I needed free strokes. I put the brush down; this was, with no doubt, a better picture.
At the center of the canvas, it shone with warmth, its rays splashing color on buildings. The many pedestrians that wandered the street looked happy, especially freedom and justice. The many buildings that stood tall were splashed with color from the sun. Red, green, yellow, orange, pink, they all filled my eyes with optimism.
Believe it or not it was the same lane in the other painting, only the street was wider, the buildings were colorful, it was fully illuminated by the sun, and happiness filled the many people roaming the streets, I might as well have painted smiley faces. This isn't what I see today. The sun is hiding from us, giving us no choice but to live in darkness, no peace, no justice, no freedom, and no security. Even though I would devote my life to achieve it, it still seemed impossible.
Oh how gullible I was, thinking a task as impossible, makes it impossible. I had a year, just a year, and now look behind me, millions of people waiting to fulfill their dreams. I wasn't the leader; no one was, well actually, all of us are.
No more distractions, time to let go of the past, and look toward the future. I let the memory drift away to the depths of my mind. This wasn't a sunrise, but a dawn, we're not there yet, but we will be, I am certain.
I looked back for the last time, only to find millions of people, waiting to bring back their freedom, let their sun rise. They were waiting for me, as their role model, to help them support our destiny. With all my heart I stood there, bearing my flag, red at the top, black at the bottom, and white in the middle, with a yellow eagle in the center. I opened my mouth and chanted, our famous chant, a roar of thunder followed.
