Everyday Living ...The Good, Bad, and Ugly: 2017

21st Century Love . . . Andy & Aria's (A Play)

Act I. The Sentence

Scene I. Narrator: (Enters. Robed as a judge and king, he unrolls a scroll as in ancient times, after removing its ring. His voice, not lofty, but regal almost sings, as in a distant background you faintly hear a trumpet before beginning to proclaim.)

I read this quote in regards to the 21st century and what type life it brings.

Andy & Aria's day... Their love a tragic thing:

"But know this, that in the last days critical times hard to deal with will be here. For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, haughty, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, disloyal, having no natural affection, not open to any agreement, slanderers, without self-control, fierce, without love of goodness, betrayers, headstrong, puffed up with pride, lovers of pleasures rather than lovers of God, having an appearance of godliness but proving false to its power; and from these turn away." 2 Timothy 3:1-5

With these sinful traits the prevalent attitudes of the day, how would love prevail?... Would it endure or always stray?

Let's look in on Andy, sentenced, in prison no longer delayed. Let's hear his thoughts. Glean what he now has to say.

Scene II. (Andy rolled out onto the stage. Pacing like an angered lion agitated in his lonely cage, his 'guns' gripping solid bars in a rage. Anxiety flipping his luxuriant ponytail worn artistically long at his young age.)

Andy: When his gravel slammed down behind sad words "25 years" on my life, I felt no anger. Already defeated when I killed my wife.

What future have I with Aria and my 'unborn' son dead? I would gladly trade all my inherited money instead.

To whither away in here for so long?... Why not just end it now?

Today, to be gone!

When I see her blood on my hands, what more is a second in eternity's span?

Why did they not give me 'death'?... How did they know I'd prefer it? Why exist any longer?... I will not defer it!

For now left, bereft!... Not just for murder, a thief for my theft.

With my Aria gone...

Narrator: At that upon his tiny cot in its dank corner he wept until exhausted. For a brief moment slept.

Wheeled off the stage in a vision or dream, we see Aria pregnant arrive on an earthly scene.

Paused at a dark window opened to midnight see, she in a silken green negligée turned her back on this starry glorious scene.

Her forehead in wrinkle betraying a frown; she slowly sits dejectedly down at a desk to compose a letter grave; not, serene. All-the-while emitting soft cries and stroking her belly, gazing thoughtfully at what she wrote, wistfully, at intervals in between.

The wording she found difficult, but she needed to write, about their love which strong existed, before they commenced to argue plus regularly fight.

This, of course, started brewing whenever 'she' entered. A gloom. Whether physically or mentally. A wickedness commenced to all consume. Her beauty was poignant. Her intelligence, bright. But when she slyly appeared, she caused Aria intense fright.

No. Aria's no coward. Possessed looks of her own. A wisdom profound. Men couldn't leave heralone.

Yet, in regards to Andy she seemed to lose precious sight. His love she possessed ardently, whole-souled, though labeled by most adults an insidious blight.

She'd not wisely acknowledge: his forcefulness left her cold. For her insides were ignited like embers blazing; not felt to ever wane old. Although, the goals in her life were buried ever so deep. His attention left her no room or time them to nourish nor seek.

But, O what a splendor his love! Made her bloom. To the heavens to peak.

As she sealed the sad letter, she knew it was through. But for baby unborn, necessity was due.

So Aria stands; then exits the stage in a pensive, strange daze as Andy reappears. Awakened from his somber haze, as a guard hands him the letter.

We encounter an Andy confused yet hungrily amazed.

Scene III.
Narrator: As a seasoned officer retreats towards hall's end,
this blood curling howl as a wounded wolverine
did his stalwart spine bend.

Hesitating a moment more to fully comprehend,
if needed more backup his safety to defend.

But Andy sat rocking his cot at rapid pace. As if he had entered some secret quick race. Yet, any who could observe great distress in his face knew better than enter. Just leave him his space.

For Andy had dropped Aria's letter
to his cell's cement floor
when suddenly backing away from his prison's iron door.
His trembling encountered
would leave his pride sore

if not for her message she him did implore:

I love you, dear Andy. Indeed still I do.
Although, if receiving this letter
our deaths did ensue.

But, please forgive yourself quickly in time.
For reasons you have to live--God's love so divine...

This angered Andy more than his actions ever could.
For mentioning a Creator, Aria never should.

Andy: Her newfound belief is what started a rift!
Now even in death her strong faith does persist!

Narrator:
Andy leaps from his corner like a tiger in attack! Grabs hold of her letter as if to sling it into a cavern or crack. Then suddenly his arms go limp. His back too in sorrow goes slack

as sobbing does grip him.
Drops him dead in his tracks.

For a vision does freeze him.

Aria arrives on the scene.

His arm reaches for her;
between bars he squeezes to lean.

He sees her in agony
after hearing her scream.

She rocking quickly on their carpeted studio floor. While he stands belligerent before her, this one he adores. Though, at the moment, his eyes blood red and his actions:

To demean.

She pleads him to recede if not leaving slick liquor alone.
But he was the master of his expensive home.

He lifted his hand to give her another quick whack. But she scurried out of reach. Snatched up her leather bag. Then fled from the kitchen into the black darkness

too hurt to look back.

Andy: Oh, Aria! I'm sorry. Forgive me! Please do.

Come back to me lovely! I'm lost without you...

Narrator: His words trailing away, for a doctor had entered the cell. Gave Andy a shot to him swiftly subdue.

Scene IV. Andy in his cell fast asleep on his feet dreaming of his previous tranquil life

outside of jail.

Narrator: "The shrewd one sees the danger and conceals himself, but the inexperienced keep right on going and suffer the consequences."—Prov. 22:3.

Andy knew these words from an ancient Proverb many times heard. Grew up with them.

Yes... Considered by many: an intelligent nerd.

But to this proverb he now thorough witness bears; so utterly true; his agonizing despair due to current catastrophic circumstances spiraling his 6 by 8 feet world.

Funneled, his thoughts, into this black hole of devastation profoundly new.

Let's watch what now happens...

Andy unexpectedly views Aria gliding before him beautifully clad in a dress fiery red in hue. He grips the bars watching like esurient wolves do. Not unlike the youthful thundering brood crowding the auditorium's stage galvanized by Aria's seductive movements, Andy's vision in review.

The crew enraptured as moths to a midnight's flickering flame eager to singe their quivering wings fatefully too.

Andy: Spitfire then ice.
No virtue. Just vice. Aria.

I remember that dance--no sweetness.
Just spices...

Delicious... delicious!

Narrator: Andy recalls his adolescent dreams on his bed. His every night wishes.

Andy follows her performance with his heart, mind, his eyes. As a young man he learned her ways. Then he threw in his righteous dice.

Andy: She whirled; she twirled. Flicked her eyes wondrously towards me.

O' so nice!... Her form setting me free to burst forth and fly through earth's galaxies in sweet exquisite explosive delight!

Narrator: Andy's reveries: every instance in which he saw her. His senses plucked like vibrating strings of a guitarist unleased in a heavy metal band's frenzied final last stream.

Supplied upon idyllic demand Andy begins to sweat. To salivate. Pace his tiny cubicle. A simple twitching in his jaw. A greedy hunger to his gait.

Agitated, although still asleep, like any confined mice spinning their wheels. Craving an unlocked cage door to attain the cheese at whatever the price.

Their mind racing to obstacles overcome in compliance of free-will.

Then tears begin from his eyes to spill when Aria disappears from his gaze as at the end of a romance movie's reel.

Andy's face loses its tension.

He glances around the cell as if of another period of time. Another horrified alien dimension.

He retrieves Aria's letter from the floor. Thinks of all parental guidelines given him before.

Returns to his cot.
Picks a few irritating bugs, lice.

Places his head in quivering hands.

Andy: I was naïve.

Raised to be honorable.

To always think twice.

He begins to again read Aria's last loving advice.

Act I Scene V
Narrator: With her battered pages held timid, Andy attempts to again read Aria's letter through, though his bleeding heart gushing him guilt, creates a gullied rift in his desires,

disabled him of steady large artistic hands
contradictory in their caress then abuse of her.

When had he developed this demon inside?... Why, in an instant, could his anger torch a forest into fire?

He tried again to let her words in him life inspire.

Andy: (Reads aloud her words in hope
these prison bars in days to cope.)

Dear Andrew.

(His fingers crush the precious pages,
while sobbing tears dampen them like dew.

He lays them upon the cot
smoothing them out to start anew.)

Dear Andrew. Please read this poem entitled: Fear Fleshed Out* to you remind how I once viewed this life of mine:

Narrator: Andy visualizes Aria seated on a wooden stool, wearing one of his favorites silk dresses, colored vibrant blue.

She voiced soft words designed to breech his divided soul. His rational self many times just out-of-reach.

Aria begins to read.
Her tone with meaning deep imbued.

Aria:

Perched
on this precipice

ascending
rapidly

from
blackened
ashes

molded

into
a
solid
craggy

Mountain

High

above the ocean,

the speed of which

stripped
me
bare

of robe--

nearly
peeled
back

my onion skin.

I climbed this mount
turned mountain.

Took
the steep steps
of
"can't"

"ain't good enough"--

often repeated

snide,
wicked,
constant,

projecting
me

higher and higher;

past
any
silver linings.

*

First I floated
on a lake of crystal clear
rippled waters,

which

Could

quench my thirsty soul.

Then
Drown
I
almost
did

bobbing and thrashing,

frantic

on the
agitated waves

of cannonball
performers.

*

I
Permitted
a drift;

so why glance
for a sail?

(Do I really
desire
Salvation?

What
exactly

Is this place
called
Hell?)

*

I
took
the steps

escaping the whirling
whispers--

sudden
blessed efforts
to inspire.

Poignant
sweet
musings

that

plucked at my core;

mimicked stroked strings
of the harp

to pacify

my
bleating
heart.

And

Yes,

Light

seeped through

semi-slanted,

dusty

blinds;

Truly

sprouted

blossoms

on this crusty soiled floor.

Though,

across
windows
(double-paned)

in flight free
and easy,

birds in abundance,

More
Beautiful
appeared;

their varied sounds

garbled.

Their melodies unclear.

*

I climbed those steps
way above those birds;
Above that ocean.

I climbed higher
even when

my legs grew heavy
in the exertion.

Now?

I lie--cold and frozen.

Now?

I will shut
my tired eyes,

just a tiny while

Dozing....

till--

THE END.

Narrator: For Andy this was too much.

He curled his large frame into a tight human ball
in the corner of his cell

as a guard on duty kept watch so as to an alarm call

while Andy rocked and moaned
in this wretched zone hours upon hours
his pathetic cries echoing the concrete prison hall.

Yes, Andy rocked and moaned

in this self created
private hell now called home.

Act I Scene VI

Narrator: Placed on suicide watch for several days.
Every fifteen minutes or so inmates appointed to invade Andy's space to keep him from caving.

Andy: All this protective attention's unwarranted.
Where were they when my Aria's life I spilled?

Then I should've been quarantined. Justification legitimate.

Now she and he are stilled.
Up on a daisied hill peaceful verdant they await
asleep.

Yes, for now they lay dormant.
They are at peace.

Narrator: If furtive eyes were what his guardian inmates sought
Andy did not them permit a glance into his thoughts
which would not have pleased
for they would have believed
him seeking a way discomfort to ease.

Yet, motives, desires, one's inner reflect
not always through the eyes can an outsider detect.

Worst case scenarios someone may suspect
imputing wrong motives based upon personal ideas
situations in error to connect.

Though, empathy is crucial; yes always valid.
An internationally humane way to lovingly interconnect.

Andy: With this constant surveillance, my life scrutinized
how will I continue Aria's hidden letter--
my supposed reason for this threatened demise?

Narrator: So Andy rested days upon days.
Able to analyze Aria's definition of fear in a glaze.
Her silent statement thoughtfully made:

Don't let fear annihilate you to end your always.

Lying on the mattress
gazing at the ceiling his new sky overhead
Andy considered Aria's love

how initially it kept him determined
focused
steady

staid.

Amazed at how her letter protected
close to his heart
even in her death

its presence kept him sweetly
from combusting totally apart.

He dreamed of their beginning.
How they'd never wanted to part.

Now here he lays remembering
how he and she got their unlikely start

as the words of a poem special
spoke to his broken heart:

Narrator: Aria's voice lulls Andy to sleep
as his sightless eyes see her kneeling at his imprisoned feet
dressed white cotton

speaking tranquil words he mouthed in repeat.

Aria: Young men,
you tender virgins,
those stillborn in death
too

Sweet sleep
your gentle passage
'til called in glorious renew

your days to endless splendor
your feet through golden sands;

though now: a time of danger
anxiety for imperfect man.

Yes, sweet your sleep,
you'll not remember;

as rising suns chase settling moons
seventy/eighty years
the living mourning

in cycles crying
these shortened
spans*

Narrator: Andy recalls this verse implanted in his soul
although everyday living had buried it cold:

“Your dead will live.

My corpses will rise up.

Awake and shout joyfully,
You residents in the dust!

For your dew is as the dew of the morning,

And the earth will let those powerless in death come to life." Isa. 26:19.

This gave Aria's poem their meaning, value.
Their precious worth.

Act II: 'Her' Penance
Scene I:
Narrator: The curtain opens with Terrifying 'She' who caused Aria such intense misery laid up in a hospital room recovering from burns in the 3rd degree.

Tilted blinds darkening, casing shadows
aggravated her serious mental gloom.

Though an IV bag hangs
a headache gigantuous causes her this pain
galvanized by her analysis of
what went wrong

in her scandalous game
induced by a germinating envy.

Not her intention
to join Andy & Aria blissfully together.

Andy she craved to strip
also of his 'conscientious' endeavors.

'She begins to visualize Aria in replay.

'She': While strolling to class one day
discussing actual physical weather

I noticed Andy eyeing Aria
smoking,

hot must have been her bottom propped top
a cement bench's back

in skin-tight black mini
leather

while cool must've been her bosom poking
over the 'v' of a sweater cropped.

As we passed by
Andy murmured: "She's too beautiful to die."

My insides freaked out like a snake spit venom in my face.

But I kept my cool
though I burned hotter
than a volcano in rumble.

Me always there to catch him
when I trip him to morally fall or stumble.

How did he miss out on my intentions?

Coy I tried to be.
Not blatant my desires to unladylike mention.

"And just what was wrong with his eyes to see
how other guys oggled timid sophisticated me?"

So in my slighted mind developed a plot
to finally get this guy gotten besot.

I just needed a bit of time to "walk around the block".

When I finished with him
to all his actions
would prove to be a terrific shock!

Then dropped the curtain on her anger which still continues to rock
her peace and serenity. Although Aria is dead because of 'She's' vanity.

Act II Scene II 'She' approaches Aria back at the bench
at her last period's end with a 'post-it' containing Andy's number written in pen.

Narrator: 'She' did indeed "round the block."
Inside her brain a 'tick tock' not in vain.

'She' not recalling
unlike to be "children, tossed about as by waves
and carried here and there by every wind of teaching

by means of the trickery of men,

by means of cunning in deceptive schemes."

'She' decided Andy hers by any worldly wicked means.

Shyly she broaches Aria with a notion.

She: Hi. Isn't your name Aria?

Aria: Who wants to know? And why? (Cutting curt with a simple smile.)

Narrator: At a young age, Aria learned suspicious to proceed when others, not 'true' friends but strangers wanted to pry.

She: Oh!... It's just that... you know, Andy--the guy with an amazing artistic eye?... Well, he'd be flattered to paint you. He asked me to inquire. Your beauty inspires him to give it a try.

Aria: Didn't I see you both earlier today?... Why didn't he approach, given what you just had to say?

Narrator: 'She' hadn't figured on Aria's lack of vanity just allowing 'She' to maneuver through pride and narcissistic greed.
The need to be stroked on which 'She' herself did feed.

Lowering her head, eyes raised as in secret to utter, 'She' began another lie to mutter.

She: You see, Andy's religion keeps him confined. Manipulates his life, his spirit, his mind. Yet, when he sees you, he wants to revolt.

To throw in the towel. His conscious revoke.

Narrator: With this line of thinking Aria did not agree.
Yet, peaked indeed was her curiosity.

Aria: By-the-way, what is your name? Forgive me my crudeness.
Sometimes my lack of manners brings me shame.

She: Oh, just call me 'Vie'. Maybe we can be the best of friends.
I wouldn't ask. Sometimes I'm extremely shy.

Narrator: Suddenly a high wind almost unhinges Andy's cell number from Aria's hand. With swift action it contained, both girls exit the stage the beginning of a relationship detrimental to remain.

Vie with plan initiated and Aria suitably engaged.
Unbeknown to Andy, who'd be irritated with Vie's conspiracy
to inner rage.

Act II Scene III
Narrator: Andy and Vie stroll the same yesterday scene before all three take center stage

as necessity calls upon Vie to manipulate
a connection smoothly to innocently be made.

So off to your left watch Vie protect her web to entangle Andy and Aria and further strengthen it with spidery eggs carefully laid.

Ah! Andy remember the verse
once faithfully in totality rehearsed:

"Look out that no one takes you captive
by means of the philosophy and empty deception
according to human tradition,

according to the elementary things of the world
and not according to Christ"? Col. 2:8.

Vie has unique vices, blinded by a pendulum swinging her emotions erratically between love and hate.

Don't be blind!...Because
“A blind man cannot guide a blind man,
can he?

Both will fall into a pit,
will they not?" Luke 6:39.

Consider your associates before it's too late....

Vie: (Placing a hand upon his arm, Vie causes Andy to hesitate.)

Andy, look over there. She's there again. And you'll never guess what happened yesterday.

(She leans closer so as Aria not to hear.)

Aria asked for you to paint her portrait!
Since such a talented artist you are, dear.

So I gave her your number for she to ask.
But maybe it'll be too much for her. A task.

So, just go with the flow.

Surely you'll want to paint her beauty aglow!

Your work to become famous.
Your name the world to know.

Narrator: Andy incredulous looks into Vie's upturned face
as to wonder: What did you do? When Vie grabs his hand
their fingers to lace. Moving him towards Aria already stationed in place.

Vie: Ah! Here he is Aria! The man to paint you.

Narrator: But Andy's a slight bit confused.
For in his hand is money Vie left.
Him feeling used.

Though, later she'll caustically lie in explain:

"Aria's paying as a patron. Consider it financial gain
to attain your own ride since your ornery father refrains!"

However, let's get back to these three.

Aria patiently waiting for Andy to proceed.

Andy: Hi. I'm Andy. You're Aria, I know.

Aria: Yes. So you're a painter desiring greater progress to show?

Vie: And with you as a model with great beauty bestowed,
Andy, you can't go wrong! This is so right!...

Oh, I wish I could be there in an atmosphere where inhibitions are relaxed for great relationships to grow.

Narrator: As the curtain closes, a noose tightens for Andy, true.

Now is the time for he
to consider closely which path rightly to choose:

Strong associations with ones like-minded
in hopes future or his nurtured virtue threatened

maybe him even enjoyably to lose

yet, swiftly trailing
guaranteed grievous repercussions
varied in scope or degrees
of difficulty for anyone even prepared
to cope?

Will his free-will
well-trained
cause him temptation
gorgeous

to refuse?

Remember Andy:

"Whoever trusts in his own heart is stupid,
But the one who walks in wisdom will escape." Pro. 18:26.

For:
"The heart is more treacherous than anything else
and is desperate.

Who can know it? Jer. 17:9.

Those following this tale
already know Andy's fate.

However, you must consider Vie's emotional state
imitating chaos worldwide

escalating more of late.

Across the revolving backdrop scene
images flash of these titles or tragedies
in which many today are forced to deal with or relate:

Rescuers resume grim search for dead in flooded Freetown
Hundreds join silent London march for fire victims
Police Brace for More White Nationalist Rallies, but Have Few Options
Driver purposely steers into French pizzeria, killing girl
Argentinian Hunter Trampled And Killed By Elephant In Namibia.
Yemen cholera cases exceed half a million.

Yes, decisions on who to love; what career to choose
while an international world continues on course of a prophecy centuries ago slated:

“Nation will rise against nation.”—Matthew 24:7.
“There will be food shortages.”—Matthew 24:7.
“There will be great earthquakes.”—Luke 21:11.
“In one place after another pestilences.”—Luke 21:11.
People will “betray one another and will hate one another.. . . The love of the greater number will cool off.”—Matthew 24:10, 12.
“Men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money,. . . having no natural affection.”—2 Timothy 3:2, 3.

Yes even: “This good news of the kingdom will be preached in all the inhabited earth.”—Matthew 24:14.

And as student protests on Andy & Aria's campus
their budding beginning

to secrecy relegated.

Stay loyally tuned :-)

Act II Scene IV

Narrator: The curtain opens upon a new scene. An artist's studio on campus. Available to students their work to perfect after hours. A few select.

Enters Vie, Andy, with Aria between. Escorted, as if anyone watching wanted to glean why an obvious African American girl, at the 7:00 pm hour is found roaming a predominately white campus ground.

For just upon glancing one does not know that Vie and Andy's blood 'black' also flows. Never in discussions before would Andy's ancestry anyone care to explore. Especially since, Andy usually kept to himself creating an aura of mystery. Once a protection for him in an environment forever spinning drama and suspense.

However, race is not the reason we're here to discuss. Vie contrives to create an atmosphere of trust, while contemplating how to convince Andy to convert his painting of Aria to a work of sculptured body in entirety. Necessitating a more intimate interaction producing seduction based on primal lust.

You see, Vie battles issues of self-esteem. Therefore, to manipulative others to even evil extremes incites her own passion. Causes her to forget any semblance of love or affection based upon godly kindness exhibited her by an older woman, not mother, now sickly; yet extremely worried about Vie and her lack of compassion behind an exterior serene.

After spending a bit of time glancing at the work of others, while determining what form of art Andy should utilize to display Aria in his best endeavors, they for a time leave the room. All three with curious thoughts inner consumed.

Act II. Scene V.
Narrator: Opens again the curtain upon our students
in the studio after a few days of introspection,
reconvening with new selfish directions.

Sly Vie main of the three
driven by narcissistic desire,

yet surprised she'll come to be
when puppeteer is found puppet
in indecency.

There she sits on a stool
in duplicity, swinging her bare legs encased in shorts.

Her expression?... A sweet smile
portraying innocence, you'll see

as Andy and Aria,
heads bent together to agree
on which outfits best
to highlight Aria's exotic looks
to artistic humanity.

Vie: Why not just use the scarf to accentuate the hazel flecks in her eyes, while the length can conceal by lying gently across her thighs.

Narrator: Quickly sifting her vision to Andy's face,
Aria replies with stunning grace:

Aria: I'm not a prude in any artist's creative endeavors,
but let's let Andy say.

I've found him to be extremely clever.

Narrator: You see, Aria already set her sights on Andy.
The bench on campus, where Vie and he daily walked,
came in very handy.

His height, head and shoulders above many men,
had caught her eye in the theatre where she performed
often winning admiration for her brilliant talent
even though darker, her native skin, fashionably adorned.

Yet, Andy was an enigma to the 'shes'.

His inner turmoil's, first simmering, now heated to boiling
to a dangerous degree after his grandparent's death left him quite wealthy.

His tastes in life morphed,
as if overnight,
quite drastically.

Do you remember initially foretold
regarding "the conclusion of the system of things"
“Because of the increasing of lawlessness,
the love of the greater number will grow cold"? Matt. 24:3, 12.

Each of us is affected.
Yes, some like Andy,

left themselves unprotected.

With shifts in weather
many may find themselves
frozen

into spiritual inactivity.

Andy: Aria, how about now
forgetting about these additional clothes.

Why not recline on the chaise and I'll sketch while you pose.

Narrator: This he says in a voice cultured smooth as silk
causing both Vie and Aria inside to wilt.

Aria noticed Andy to be different. And Vie knew why.
His past biblical studies grew him a maturity easy to spy.

Yet, a conscience progressively growing steadily more stained
slowly erodes beautiful values once studiously maintained

while difficult to spot,

since in silence
habits ungodly cultivated
he secretly contained.

However, Andy had developed a way to feed the flames of his sins within, while cool to other's pry.

A sophistication he spins.

But, lately Aria's presence is shaking his façade.

Threatening?... A dip into a common pool:
Forsake all morals for everyday trends.

Erotic pictures to a hungry mind he nightly feeds.
But Aria he'll not relegate to fulfilling
those animalistic needs.

So, Vie's instigation
into tampering with his virtuous hesitation

has proven successful indeed.

As the three exit
with Vie and Andy to divide

Aria, returns home

while Vie continues
to Andy's reside...

Narrator: Andy needs
A Heart-to-Heart

How real is he
do you feel

his words

as sweet honey
a healing to weary bones?

Did eyes, heavy hearts rise
heaven-high

as warring body torn
immerged

reborn
to live life selfless;

as really free

liberated to eternity

whether heavenly or earthly
it should prove to be?

Or would you rather be left alone
to agonize through horrific storms

dark, angry

too cold?

Everyone's tragedy
food for soul?

Black or blue or red meat
pummeled

you watch or initiate
bold.

Wicked rivalry do you prefer

to consort, distort, report propaganda
to divide

hiding cruelty,
slickness

snide inside

crawling
slithering

ungodliness
to abide?

A sparkling mirror
miraculously leaned

in one's midst
reflects an image

either tainted or clean.

Reveals motives
proper and pure
or satanically mean.

Yes, makes a distinction
in between: the righteous or the wicked.

"Draw close to God,
and he will draw close to you.

Cleanse your hands,
you sinners,

and purify your hearts,
you indecisive ones."

Is this admonition gratifying?

How real is he
do you feel

his words

a sweet healing to weary bones?

Or rather we be left alone to our vices?

We must develop an appetite
for healthy phrases

plus
nature's arts

our loving Creator
does magnificently

impart.

From this day forward
make a start:

A relationship with God.

Heart-to-Heart.

If you please.

Act II. Scene VI.
Narrator: Again our curtain does rise on Andy's artist studio scene. Except for the moment there's only Aria with him.

Vie, with their nightly wrestling, believes this sets her squarely throned to reign as 'best-loved' queen.

'Enlightened' Andy had become. Higher education, academics, Vie, with money, future travel?... Total now the sum?

Yet, from only sculpting Aria does joy daily come. Since conversation proves lively. An exhilaration where existed none.

Reclining on the sofa, Aria asks:

Aria: Okay. Now to the serious. To what does your future lean?
Day-to-day, a future goal? To what does all the turmoil in the world mean? It's time to me un-bear your soul.

Narrator: Andy knows not if Aria feels she has any answers. But an opportunity he has to propound biblically what are the earth's survival chances.

If any affection for her he sincerely feels
its time to offer true hope.

What he learns as 'truth'
to her, in loving consideration, reveal.

Yet, shuts a door he does
to any edification

on just how mankind can cope.

He puts the cap back on the conversation
and with diversion

does smoothly it seal.

Andy: How about a cigarette break?

Aria: I thought you didn't smoke.

Andy: I love how you look when you do.

Aria: I won't contribute to the detriment of you. Plus, this habit will keep you broke.

Narrator: At this time, a security guard enters the room
startling them both. For a month had flown like the speed of a humming bird's flutter they worked without interference. Thankful. Clearance presumed.

Security guard: Sir, I know you are a student. I've seen you on campus before. But you, young lady, I can see why you're here. But do you have an id to verify a reason to clear?

Narrator: This, Aria, finds ludicrous at best. Lounging with 50 percent of her brown body in a state of undress.

Aria: I am sorry...you haven't seen me?

I've seen you often.
At the theatre, on the grounds--

Security guard: Surely, you are not going to protest?

Narrator: Yet, all-the-while, Andy, by any actions doesn't confess that he too is a 'brother'. With a mother black and loving, even now living, him unaware how blessed.

So Aria, grabs her purse, irritation difficult to hide. Yet, she see's how the wind does blow. Seethes silent inside as reel news denotes a world that rocks in terror. No peace anywhere to permanently reside.

Security guard: Sir, where is the other young lady usually here with you? It's probably best if she stays near. You know,... with the air stirring anew.

Andy: I think we can make that happen. Thank you for expressing, for safety, your valid point-of-view.

We are really just wrapping up. A break long overdue.

Narrator: The guard grants Andy a slick grin. As, "I know what you're up to."

But to Aria he turns his back and exits from a door hidden from their obvious view.

Aria shakes in anger, while Andy gathers his things.

He goes to lift Aria's chin. Dropping his eyes
as if feeling her pain when his cell phone begins to ring.

As, outside, a strong breeze begin to howl in sorrow
just before it begins to rain.

Curtains: And across the drapes rolls images of humanity groaning under humongous strain as music softly Irish in melody
continues its sad and mournful strain.

Act II. Scene VII.
Narrator: Before drapes are drawn on a new location
a bench is centrally stationed dividing hatred

in brew
unlike for beer or coffee desired.

But between more than a few
bickering to a point of heated aggravation.

While the background rotates dark images of worldwide uprisings
shaking the world's crumbling foundation.

But look!

Security arrives swiftly on key
to reign on the presently distained--young angered African Americans to remain unnamed if wise enough to accept:

hatred makes victims of all.

Violence does not elevate a cause.
It ostracizes to Divine shame. For "God is not partial,

but in every nation the man who fears him and does what is right
is acceptable to him." Acts 10:34, 35.

For them he'll forever in justice righteously fight!

Will blatant wickedness, unrighteous war
eliminate to eternally end using His Almighty might

after His Day rapidly approaching
in which His own Sovereignty and Name
his now reigning Son will universally defend

against worldwide slander
He even had to patiently

endure.

But keeping in focus a blessed end of a matter
helps one walk straight and tall
although the masses may wish you to stumble.

Yes. Even the wicked spirit world
wants you to everlastingly fall.

Each one on duty call to provide an answer to:

"Be wise, my son, and make my heart rejoice,
So that I can make a reply to him who taunts me."

Those eager for 'true' and lasting justice
must:

"Therefore, become imitators of God, as beloved children,

and go on walking in love,

just as the Christ also loved us and gave himself for us as an offering and a sacrifice, a sweet fragrance to God."

Speaking of 'sweet fragrance' Aria has just seated herself on the bench not long ago a divider separating 'brothers' provoked.

And not far in the distance Andy watched until the ruckus cleared.

Now he approaches Aria.
His manliness stoked. Realizing,
for Aria he has reason to fear.

He suddenly kisses her tenderly just above her ear.

Whispers, "I love you." Causes her to tear up
as he raises her up. His arm possessively wrapped around her waist.

Their steps in unison. Him leading in haste.

For he felt he needed to relocate his lovely sculpture and she speedily from the campus now ripe for riots, he recognizes
after observing the recent disturbing ominous scene.

For one slighted girl Vie can prove to be spitefully mean.

Act II. Scene VIII.https://wol.jw.org/en/wol/d/r1/lp-e/1102009142#h=1:0-21:0

Narrator: The Curtain opens with a beautiful haunting melody filling Andy's apartment--loft. Andy rushes over to his answering machine, viciously shutting it off.

Glorious words snatched quickly from the air, but not before
Aria recognized phrases asking to God: Please hear my prayer.

Horrified, Andy fidgets; quickly moves things around his luxurious place. Apologizes sheepishly. Red highlighting his face.

Andy: Sorry about that. Me mom. (Slightly grinning.) Hey! How about a snack before we begin. (Thoughts creeping to culminate soon in some artistic sinning.)

Narrator: Aria paused in her inspection of his personal space. In introspection her heart commences to race. Quite surprised it resembled the campus' artist studio. Although, mostly masculine. No appearance of lace,

except a little slip of black swiftly balled up his hand.

This distracted Aria from questioning the sweet melody. It unfortunately erased.

Aria, turns to nod her assent, when a bell buzzing immediately surprised them both. Andy pausing as if contemplating to bolt, when realizing he's his own man. Cowardice revoked.

Pushes the intercom, while not experiencing an inner calm.

Andy: Who is it?

Vie: It's me!... Vie.

Narrator: She replies knowingly. For she had implanted cameras in the loft intending on Andy to spy.

Andy glances at Aria, before buzzing her up.

Andy: I'm sorry Aria for this brief interruption. We've been friends for a bit.

Narrator: He not mentioning her initiation of his moral corruption.

Aria: Oh, it's no problem.

Narrator: Though, this is a lie. Aria pieces things together like a mathematician formulating equations in a blink of one's eye; yet, she'll not now launch into a jealously inspired pry.

Remembering his recent, "I love you" she commences to demonstrate her belief in this by taking control of preparation of snacks, as the lady in a relationship is inclined to do.

Aria: I'll just pull us together something to eat, while you answer, since you for.

Narrator: Her way of composure during retreat.

Andy: Good idea!

Narrator: As he heads to open the door. Irritating building, yet he's not really outspoken. Leaning on the frame, he opens to peer, not allowing Vie to explore. Nor Aria to hear.

Yawning as if arising from a nap. Although, not exhibiting a youthful reaction that at this precise moment he finds life an utter bore.

Instead, he portrays he's been inept.

Andy: Oh Vie! Thanks so much for waking me! I've must've overslept. Would you mind racing over to the campus to slow Aria down. I don't want her any longer to be kept.

Narrative: Vie grins, doesn't let on that she knows. However, inside she fumes. In a minute she'll explode if not immediate she goes.

Vie: No problem.

Narrator: She leans in to give him a kiss. He hesitates, but her leaning insists.

Swiftly, he pecks on the lips, but she grabs hold, plants one on him
that Aria cannot fail to miss.

Act II Scene IX
Narrator:The curtain again reopens upon Vie laid up in a hospital room recovering from burns in the 3rd degree

for not loving justice according to the Almighty's decree:

“He has told you. . . what is good.”... Vie couldremember these words from her foster mom's persistent reproof. But self-willed always. A weed not a rose, since not loving anyone but self. Strong-willed, with belligerent thick roots.

Other's desire dismissed; tossed upon a high top shelf. Forgotten. Unless of benefit to personal inspires. Then gone after like a notorious night thief for diamonds and pearls in malfeasant,

stealth as performed by the haughty or arrogant home-wrecking thief.

Ended up she early outside a warm shelter. Homeless. Without a permanent roof.

Yet, time and again her intelligence gained her a shared temporary bed. With or without lice aggravating her head. Though, all she needed do was adhere to honesty in 'truth'.

Throw her back and laugh hearty at that.

"What fun lies in goodness?... I'd rather roll in the gutter if it provides sensual entertainment. Gives me power. Though, I'd maintain a sense of aloof. (Since, her smile and sweet laughter hid well the depth of her hostile bends.)

But, as Proverbs 29:15 states: "A child left unrestrained brings shame on his mother." For people, in the end, always asked
"who birthed this girl?" after a wickedness, as foretold, is thoroughly uncovered.

"Can a man rake fire to his chest and not burn his garments?" Proverbs 6:27.

Never, could she fathom this slow recovery to a treachery unearthed by Andy unveiling her long and heinous trends.

All that was needed:

“To love kindness.”

She pretended this when selfish ends demanded.
But, within her heart she felt kind and meek weakened ones strong.

Always by her wits and wittiness, on her feet to land.

However, here she lays replaying her 'means' against Aria to gain Andy's love and financial 'greens':

Daily she'd play back video tapes displaying what slip-up in their relationship growing she could twist him to Aria insidiously berate.

Especially since, “to be modest” Aria strove to do after only one feisty episode. Aria then determined not to be misunderstood. A man 'forever' in a married state Aria desired. And for this, sexual urges aside, she'd purposefully wait.

So, it became necessary for Vie to initiate a campaign of racially inspired hate.

But do you remember her, When I finished with him...?

Well, it ended with: "He's finished with me."
Rolled off the stage 'She' in abject misery.

Then drops the curtain on Vie hospitalized for her envy, her lies. In penance only for not completing what she hatefully contrived.

Andy to despise Aria, which didn't happen even after Aria dies peaceful and serene, despite the duplicity against her.

Even more so Aria wins.

Andy's love for her increases greatly as each new season spins.

But Vie's and his cancerous friendship
finally at a blessed end... Andy... No longer compromised*...TO BE CONT'D...
https://allpoetry.com/story/13467244-21st-Century-Love-.-.-.-Andy---Arias-Act-III-Scene-I-by-Lucretia-Mccloud

For Aria:

NOT COMPROMISED

Hollowed out

cyphered
empty

after suffering
crippling agony

yes
intense its pain

which twisted
my psyche

so viciously.

Contorted me.

Inane
my brain.

I cried out for you
in the bleakness.

Received
demons

my soul
to drain.

While writhing
in harrowed darkness

continued
hoping,

I thought

in vain.

Now I feel your love
uplifting me

like butterflies

my insides
tickled.

No longer lonely
since so despised.

Now I know true love
completely.

You have opened

defeatists'
eyes.

Yes, I sense

your love
so truly.

A Light
so bright

your Being

simply,
yet wondrously

totally
comprised.

Yes, I sense

your love
so truly.

No longer empty.
Not compromised.

Act III. Scene I. Aria
Narrator: Dusk had descended with Aria seated happily reading under a bright street lamp, while waiting for Andy as always on the campus bench where she first found this golden pearl--a small book, to her a glorious star from heaven sent.

Since a child she wondered why many around the globe, like her father and mother, sadly just toiled. Determined like an oak, she swore never a endless minute would negativity her spoil, as it did them. Every day their anger boiled till erupted a cavern not too vast to cross if constructed a bridge. They did not value its cost.

So Aria learned to sing and dance. Recited poetry in her 'truth' to others enhance. When finally hope in her sprang. Now here was the proof she waved in her hand singing and springing around and around. Joyfully she danced like a ballerina royally crowned:

[Aria:} This changes everything!

A righteous king
eliminating death;

this constant suffering?

This changes everything!

Attaining a perfect life?

No more enslaved
to bitterness or strife?

This changes everything!

Each
enjoying
productive work?

No more burdened
under some tyrant's
narcissistic worth?

Yes!
This changes everything!

Peace
earth-wide
to abound?

War's end;
terrorism's trend

internationally

forevermore
to rescind?

Oh please!
This would change everything!

Then she again reseated:

Yet,

Dare I believe?

Or is this the worst deception?

Her telephone she used to verify scriptures again,
as initially at her readings' first inception

*

She begins to whisper with her head deep in bow:

"No!

This changes everything:
God's Kingdom to Come!"

Obedience is key
to wickedness's
destruction

overcome.

Cultivate
now
a heart inclined
ensuring personal victory

to this Future

So Divine!#

Narrator: However, she had Andy squarely in mind. For although to her heart this message it squeezed, her voiced words like a church bell to Andy. It clanged and it clanged. Made him shutter and wheeze.

Yes, she'd once showed it to Andy, a little while back, what she'd found. Knowing the man she loved would share in this treasure profound, especially since he worshipped her youthful laid ground.

But she was sadly mistaken.

So, she was not of any liberty taking.

When he arrived she pretended something else she was reading
so not his equilibrium to rock. His cool demeanor to be prematurely shaken.

Aria sees him glide to her side.

She hops up to grant him a hug.
Her eyes shining melted him, this wanna be macho or silent type 'thug'.

Aria: Hey Babe! So how did things go? Is the master of artistry ready to continue his work until the world he can show...

(she spins and spins seductively before him in her green silk dress. Femininely perfumed too to his manhood impress)

What a wonder you are, honey...Yes, this they will know!

Narrator: So arm-in-arm they leave the stage, this couple in love. Enthralled. In each other totally engaged.

Then opens the curtain a moment later with Aria reclining on his sofa, glancing wistfully to heaven above. For she remembered something she read and already did know:

Do not marry anyone whose goals, like yours, don't set both your hearts aglow. For a scripture she now knew. Of it could she quote, though not knowing entirely, just what of it spoke:

(Aria's voice from a distance muses.)

"Do not become unevenly yoked with unbelievers.
For what fellowship do righteousness and lawlessness have?
Or what sharing does light have with darkness?
Further, what harmony is there between Christ and Beʹli·al?"*

This scripture to repeatedly her curiosity peak.

However, as Andy stroked the clay with his fine hands, she remembered his touch and his gentle to hungry sensual demands.

(Again, Aria's voice from the background wistfully speaks.)

Just how could this lovely specimen not want the same things I now want?... I wish I could speak up. To him be forcefully blunt.

Would he ever again believe
what his parents had taught him about a paradise future conceived
in the past, but us now expecting it soon?... God's Kingdom to wipe wickedness from our beautiful land?

For the 'unrighteous'
thankfully

no longer any room.

Yes, she let her mind wander to when 'peace and security' will internationally bloom.

What caused Andy to become an 'unbeliever'?

Remember Vie was his constant companion. A spokesperson for eternal global

gloom and doom...Prophesied: "First of all know this, that in the last days ridiculers will come with their ridicule, proceeding according to their own desires and saying:

(Vie's voice you now hear.)

“Where is this promised presence of his?

Why, from the day our forefathers fell asleep in death, all things are continuing exactly as they were from creation’s beginning.”" 2 Peter 3:3, 4

"An end to pleasure seeking intense?... No, you have nothing to fear."

Act III Scene II
Narrator: Again opens the scene with Aria waiting patiently serene
dressed in rust swede and matching boots for the weather, cool
composing a poem after a meditation on creation, the Creator, and just being. She reads back what's she written:

Aria: Unseen.
Everlasting.

Not a baseless
hopeless dream

the Future--

Peaceful and Serene!

As day-to-day we waste away
from stresses that drain

our joy.

Sweet study employed
do enliven energies needed
to finish the race

whether we manage it energetically
or coerced we are to keep apace. Thankful
now for a paradise we face.

Arising on a horizon
forthcoming soon.

The earth restored.

Removed sin's gloominess,
doom.

Unseen our hope
yet, glorious it's tune!

Lifting spirits.

Hearts enlarged
to nations consume.**

Narrator: Aria leaves the stage with these words needed to ruminate on daily, since no longer a blushing bride to a bitter agnostic groom.

How did that happen when we saw her perplexed?

While watch as the curtain opens on Andy anxious to flex, because Vie indeed caused him on Aria to be vexed.

Andy: (Pacing back-and-forth.) Aria! How could you?... You knew I hadn't seen my parents in years! And you up and plan a visit with them regardless.

Just where was your fear... to me displease?

Narrator: As Aria sits on the sofa, she fights back angry tears. Her voice questioning in the background:

Aria: Just how did he know? Who could have told him when and where I should go?

Narrator: Though, instantly and really Aria already knew.

Aria: But how did Vie know what things to say to cause Andy to brew? Whenever they are together he comes back in a stew. That witch is so clever. Just what can I do?... There must be something in this place that let's her know. Or at least, gives her a clue.

Andy: Aria? Are you listening to me!?... He stands in front of her like a massive swaying tree with limbs well equipped to deliver a beating with more than just his lips.

Narrator: Any other day Aria would not cower. But she'd promised to meet his mother in little less than an hour.

Aria slides a little to the side of the sofa, patting him daintily a spot.

Aria: Andy please sit down. Your anger is making you too hot. Let me kiss you to make you better. I don't want you to drop.

Narrator: Andy looks down on his beauty and her sweet smile and skin so smooth. In an instant he's mellow. His anger did lose.

Places his head on Aria's lap.

Andy: Honey, I'm sorry. You just don't understand.

Narrator: As Aria massages his temples gently, still concerned with her plan:

Aria: All I want is to know Andy better. Why is meeting his family such an ugly endeavor?

Narrator: But suddenly something she read springs to mind. About being in subjection, which could very well lead to him dealing with her real kind.

Another verse coercing her independent thinking was:

Aria: My wifely conduct mild could win him over without a word. Instead of this recent constant bickering without either really being heard.

Maybe I should just write his mother to let her know I exist. Then maybe she will initiate a dinner. On it immediately insist.

Narrator: With that notion she's content to further Andy soothe. Strokes his flesh to flame a fire into motion.

As the curtain closes on their romance. Heated now. No time to snooze.

While, Vie watches their goings on from her home. Lit. Her wicked jealous fuse.

Act III Scene III
Narrator: Curtains reopen to life's bitterness displayed
later that same evening as Andy rages in paced anger like a feline caged.

(Just where did we see this before?

Three weeks ago Act I & II,
when first this play was staged.#)

Yes, here we are in Andy's and Aria's history. Once lovely their love on parade.

Now, day-to-day an accruing misery.
Wondering where patience and goodness,

self-control

these fine attributes
were unnecessarily

laid.

Let's listen in on whatever lame reason
the fruits of the spirit, once known by Andy

were not even by osmosis, being paid.

Aria: (In her silken green negligée, grabs at Andy's arm. Not believing for an instant that he would really his darling harm.)

Andy! Please!
What's the matter... Who was that that called?

If it's Vie don't listen to her chatter!

It seems she can see us even through these thick
brick

loft walls.

Andy: Oh yes! I believe she's clairvoyant. She told me to whom you wrote!

What is it Aria?
Why don't you believe me when of my parents, them, I spoke?

Narrator: Aria drops pleadingly before him to her knees.

Aria: Andy please! I did listen to you. I didn't keep the date I'd made.

I just needed to let them know... Whack!

Narrator: Andy back slaps her... Aria falls upon the floor as Andy stumps off even more angry before he slams their apartment door.

Meanwhile, Vie watches satisfied with her wicked scheme.
Listening as Aria to a closed door sadly protests:

Aria: Andy, I just wanted your family to love the little one inside me growing. Since they didn't do too bad a job by you.

I just need a little bit of their love and understanding
too.

For I miss your sweetness
you once, to me, in sincerity
loved showing.

Narrator: Aria weeps briefly, until her anger, it peaks.

She begins to scours the loft, rifling through sofa pillows
even high corners, under lampshades

looking for whatever she might glean
knowing exactly of what she seeks

to understand how Vie is able to maneuver Andy
into this constant demon mean.

While, outside Vie seated on the bench has quickly shut her laptop down. For Andy has just surfaced. His face contorted in a furious frown.

Vie: Hey Andy!... How about a drink?

Narrator: Startled, he looks at Vie. Shakes his head. Drops it.
Hands shoved deep into his pockets. He continues his thoughts to think.

Narrator: Andy turned down Vie's offer to assisthim in his determined drunken stupor. But proceeds to imbibe shot after shot to while away their separated hours. Not elevated into a better humor.

After a bit, he strolls homeward bound,
not adjusted wisely his musings instead.

Let's take a sad listen
to what liquor strong
into him

his emotions bred.

Inside Andy's head

Andy: where will I end
after tripping on this spin
between black anger then love
bouncing me wrong back to you

again

my heart
head hazy
crazy within

when will it stop
pulsating drip drop
heartbeats

not

flipping-to-flop

with questions brutal
not cropped

heat comes till it goes
just appears when it knows
as harsh winter with snow
flakes bitter wet as they blow

then spring peaks brief around
birds singing sweet sounds

still no laughter for clowns
and no liquor to drown

so today I'll begin
to finish
this circling trend
of reality's pretend

true love
to vigorously
defend

my search
still rolling
me forward

you
tossed as brash trash
upon emotion's highway
whipping my ride

now safe and sound
round

its
wondrous bends*

his direction
now headed to Vie's apartment

is where shuffling feet
him woefully

led.

Act III Scene IV
Narrator: Hours later, the next day, we find Aria pacing the floor. Like a butterfly flittering from chair to peeking out a cracked open door. Even to the Almighty she did implore: Let him be okay. And I know for sure.

But the hands around the clock continued their circle.

Her sadness and anger dueling in vicious cycles
as she performed as a woman scorned:

Are not our lives a tattered trust?

Consequences withstanding
men still rule mainly by lust and desires of wicked eyes.

Said of humans:

“This people approaches me with their mouth
And they honor me with their lips,

But their heart is far removed from me;

And their fear of me is based on commands of men
that they have been taught.

Therefore, I am the One
who will again do wonderful things
with this people,

With wonder upon wonder;

And the wisdom of their wise men will perish."

Yet, the Almighty who is wise and loving, true
loyal and trustworthy in all He does or will ever do
does not us despise.

In a relationship with Him
He will us cherish.

We are His children
if obedient we are despite the wounds inflicted.

Despite our scars.

He tells us to hate what is bad
and love what is good.

Why is this so often confusing
or misunderstood?

We cry for justice and equality
as we steal from Him--
His Sovereignty.

We rant and rave
insist that He us save from tyranny
from unholy war
from tragedies the whole world over.

Yet,

we continue to live just the same
in all our selfish and vile or vicious ways
wanting the honor;

non deserving of endless praise.

Is this to be always
till the end of our days?

No.

He has given his wonderful decrees
from a mouth spoken with loving ease:

"I take the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you today
that I have put life and death before you,

the blessing and the curse;

and you must choose life
so that you may live,

you and your descendants,

by loving Jehovah your God,
by listening to his voice,
and by sticking to him,

for he is your life
and by him you will endure."

The opposite:
eternal Death

brought through sin's disease

Need not be chosen.
Just do as one pleases.

Eventually one's end
in graves dug or vats placed
or waiting for morticians
in rooms totally freezing.

The Creator's purpose
with blood was bought

so obedience to His standards of righteous
ought not be spit upon with distaste.

We must fight to defend His name
in thankful grace,

since
He will soon
all wickedness erase.

He does not lie.
He can not die.

He will rule this earth and universal space
with or without us individually.

This is the future we all soon must face.

Choose Life

and live here Eternally
by following his guidelines to best of our degree

and supporting the likeminded to faithfully stand.
In love extend outstretched helping hands.

Then one day:

Life in perfection will be everlastingly granted
as family members once dead
will return to this land.

To All inhabitants living on a renewed earth
with plenty to eat and their own place to sleep:

Life Will Be Wonderful!
Yes, Totally Grand!

Let not sin rule
and it's sad consequences
we forever in death reap.

Why did not Andy God's love and law want to keep?
And why does he not of things so wholly important, to me, not want to speak?

Who or what deterred him from wanting such a secure future to seek?

Narrator: While at that moment, Andy arrived. Sheepish in manner, though still holding on to pride as he plops down a balled-up flyer on the table of an up-coming campus rally. They petitioning him to come and support a side.

Aria doesn't know whether to hug him or slug him.

In the end, her body just folded on to itself. Left her in the middle of the floor weeping. Rocking. Holding on to herself.

Struggling not to Andy deride.

Act III Scene V
Narrator: The curtains are drawn back to continue the scene.

When Aria saw Andy's six-pack lacking three in his left hand her mind went volcanically active after anguish given cruel birth through worry. Emotions careened.

Heart, definitive in its lack of mirth.
Pained

as lightening stabs
not gloriously striking as when across a midnight sky

hurled through her
crushing like boulders dense in blackness excavated
to pulverize her soul back to mere dirt. Earth.

Aria slowly raised her head. Then she sat back upon her legs as if too weary. No longer by thrill of first love fed.

She asks, while Andy fidgets. Unable to square off and look her steadily in the eye.

Aria: Andy, where were you?

Narrator: Andy sets down his drink.
Not inclined to give thought to think.

Andy: Nowhere, Aria.

Narrator: Aria found it difficult to blink.

Aria: Nowhere?... Then why weren't you here?
Were you with 'she'?

Andy: No Aria!... Though 'she' is my friend!

Narrator: Aria's head drops.

Aria: How can that be when she is my enemy?

Narrator: Aria begins to murmur:

Aria: Andy,

Your words
tricky thus sticky
pulled at the core of my worth

once believing their utterances
conceived in love

heliumed
me

buoyed
way above my insecurities.

Now,

once again braised
upon knees

my desire pleads with you:

Lift me up; raise me as high
as once your sky!

But this snickery of yours I can't abide.

Snide and deceitful hides of your whereabouts;
then angry strides and shouts

shoving my nerves around.

Cuddling me
then busted

me.

Around like a Ferris wheel.

Downs extremely down.

How did you entrap
swallow me whole

where darkness dwells?
Where I am cold.

Why did I falter
and fall into
when my intelligence usually
lets me see through?

Your smoothness became a tranquil sea.
Bluer that any horizon given me.

Your lips of venom were honey sweet
to drip upon my thirsty tongue.
To skip my patter of its beat.

Your touch a flame to heaven send

now bends me forth
to curl in pain
from poison rushing from my heart
to cripple me
through shrinking veins

pinching the oxygen
from my weak and famished
brain.

How did you know
for me to seek?
What deep inside
did you true peek?

Your handsomeness disguised your hate.
Your treachery

will seal my fate?

Am I too late?

Shall I be as Eve,
since so thoroughly deceived

laid to rest and then to dust
for lacking sense of whom to trust?

The web you spun to capture me...
why?

To humor you?
To murder me?*

Narrator: By this time Aria's frame, though still not standing, is rigid in its anger to Andy defy. Whack!

Aria touches her face. Her heart in race. When Andy reaches back to again strike.

Yet, Aria grabs her leather bag. Slings back:

Aria: Andy, 'She', your friend, gave our family HIV. Deal with that!

I hope you and her will be happy together in your lustful iniquities!

Narrator: Then Aria flees through their kitchen backdoor,
down the fire-escape to construct a plan which will help her regain a semblance of her former serenity.

Headed to the campus theatre near
she thought to dance away her anger and this nagging fear.

The curtain closes on Andy as Aria reaches their usual bench
unaware of a rally brewing. Opposers against interracial couples hateful enough to Aria lynch.

With no desire to rhythms past heed, Aria pulls out her phone to shots of Andy while sitting to meditate on love's chaotic deeds:

Aria: What about Love
does us crazy make?

Forsaking all

some

though graven
their mistake when
splayed as wet spaghetti
on a plate made dirty

before
you arrived;

but laid, now,
you out,
in glorious
presentation

as if one prized

by this soul
of late
full of volcanic hate.

What about love
drives us to pursue
this one whose back
always beckons you?

Is this what
true love
is prone to do?

Love is patient.
Love is kind.

So why do I feel intense
your despise?

My red heart
you turn to blues
strumming my life away

chasing yellow
anew.

Twilight the passage
shadowing the day-

light not brightening
the darkness
of your departure--.

eager in anger.

Curled
frightened kitten-like
in my home's corner
until this one
returns
to further
torment/

abuse?

Is this love?

What about Love?

It's time!
For me to let it show!

For others to see
how much I've grown.

Gentleness
brings sweet soil to grow
as poppies under a radiant sun
spreading beauty to the eye's of all

welcoming
the sum of all our efforts

and even those who never did become
soft and caring after all we've done.

Well, keep the candle flaming
though it may flicker!

We can still shine brightly
even in stormy nights
with our wicks protected
to further bestow.

Stay aglow.

This is love!

Not hidden.

It brings delight.

My war has ended.
I've abandoned vengeances' fight.

For it's all about Love
with total might
for all that's right.

I pray in time
you'll too
surface

from a raging sea
and find the calm.

Maybe then you'll
return

a valued gift
to the world;
to me.

Lovely.#

Narrator: Now Aria is ready on the theatre's empty stage to perform, since her life has regained its mission. No longer to bitterness and animosity

unhappily succumb.

Act III Scene VI
Narrator: Aria's words shocked Andy. He stalked back then forth,
no longer buzzed. His thoughts bouncing his emotions off any definite course.

Andy: What did she mean... HIV?... Who's she slept with?
I'll crown that guy king!

Narrator: Andy stops at the lovely statue of Aria to angrily lean.

Andy: Aria, just what did you do?...
I made you my queen.

Narrator: Andy drops to his knees.
Begins to harshly cry

when suddenly he remembers her words
before she of necessity did fly:

Aria's voice heard: Andy, 'She', your friend, gave our family HIV. Deal with that!

I hope you and her will be happy together in your lustful iniquities!

Narrator: Andy's head suddenly jerks up. His stomach burns as it churns like about to erupt.

It dawned on him to recall his own sins

consisting mainly of exploits with Vie.
Greedy sexual and hallucinatory spins.

Andy: But after getting with you, Aria, that lustful period eroded to die! (He, of horror, insisted.)

I'm not just saying this Sweet Aria as an alibi. When I went there yesterday. I went to say forever good riddance and 'good bye!'

My God, Aria. I'm sorry...I've been remiss...

Narrator: Andy remembers the rally, jumps to his feet.
Un-balls the flyer; takes a look at the date.

Remember's its intensity. Takes off in fleet

before its too late.

The curtains closes as Andy's on the run.

The sun has already set.
A tragedy already begun.

***

Aria hasn't moved from the bench. Her mind still processing this afternoon's culminating events.

Yet, as dim shapes
in the night's breeze
before her sway and play,

her spirit at peace

has caused
an inescapable delay,

as she in sincerity
and awe-inspired

gratefully prays.

Aria: No
shadowy
presence

you are,

though
often

shoved

into the
corners
of our
daily
lives.

HIDDEN,

as if
deformed,

yet
miracles--

all of them,
YOU
performed.

Why should you be
secreted

away,

eclipsed

by puppet masters--

those who
commandeer
the stage,

play
our
strings

angrily,
greedily,
possessively,

while
You
lovingly

waited
patiently,

still
managing our world

spinning
perfectly

for inattentive
humanity?

So Let There Be Light

shown
on many
pathways.

For

no
shadowy
presence

you are
to remain,

to Forever
maintain
an arena
for fleeting mankind's
hoorays.

For you
there will be

No more
SHADOWS.*#

Narrator: Yet, floating on the evening air now chilled
her ears become tuned to an angry mob approaching from over the slight hill.

She stands surprised
to find herself soon facing many familiar
of her peers.

But especially,

she notes Vie heading this harsh crowd chanting:

"Kill her!... Kill her!"
Aria horribly hears.

A pop like a fircracker.

The mob as quickly disperses.

As Andy sees Aria hit the ground a howl of complete anguish from deep depths unconscious

inhuman in sound

soulfully emerges.

Andy: Aria! Aria!... (He grabs her gently up)... Help me! Help me! Please! Someone!... (As her face tenderly he cups.)

Aria!
Please.

I'm sorry. Speak to me.

Narrator: Aria slowly opens her eyes. Begins to smile,
while a trickle of blood from a corner of her lips slips.

Andy grabs her tight as he begins to bawl.

Aria: Aw...babe...Stop crying. (She whispers her words.)
I knew you would come. You do love us. (Andy bends closer to her mouth

so as to cherish what he heard.)

I told our baby
his father us did love.

He just needed a little push.

And look...

I am so sorry, babe.

Here we are.

(She smiles a little pathetically.)

I guess we've been given
a shove.

Narrator: As Aria's eyes again close,
this time for good,

Andy loses it.

Andy: Oh my God!... Help me. Oh my God, my God... I've killed her...

Narrator: Andy is suddenly grabbed by both arms and yanked up by officers.

But among the trees is where Vie silently stood.

Finale:
Narrator: The final curtain rises on how our story began with our dear Andy jailed. Now lying limp upon his cot

believing himself a prisoner for 25 years destined to rot.

(Although, Vie's plot had been thoroughly derailed.

She sped away from the deadly scene
with a private investor hot on her trail.

At her ridiculous speed her car careened
into a thick oak tree.

The investor able to set her free from its roaring flames.

Her injuries?
Burns. To the third degree.

Hospitalized now.
Under strict security.)

While, Andy night after night tosses and turns.
Aria's letter engraved upon his heart. For her he yearns.

"For the bed is too short to stretch out on,
And the woven sheet is too narrow to wrap up in."*

(Felt this way even as powerful leaders today.

Also, those who put trust in them.
Since their proclaimed refuge-a proven lie.

These nations not indefinite to stay.

Only their arrogance keeps them continuing to try.)

Narrator: Speaking of being humbled after extreme arrogance...

Andy: (On his back gazing at the ceiling.)
As her husband I've failed her

Narrator: Is Andy's continual cry...

(He muses poetic.)

Andy: I'd trade a thousand lovely lies, for one painful truth
I shall not despise.

Cinderella wasn't a happily ever after.
Millions of divorces deride in tragic proof.

Swatting flies with our wedding certificate
symbolizing how a roaring flame dwindles,
if not even singly inflamed,
into embers dying growing steadily
insignificant. Like the feather
weighing more than all the love
you left me. Nearly broken.
Under a bleeding moon.

Then poof!

Flying to Death.
Leaving the Living behind

though, never ready, when it's saying goodbye...

Yet, there exists a heroism in
the silence of accepting the end

as one Can't save a falling star.

A third of the heavens ousted down
exemplify this terrifying truism

our earth now
their iniquitous
demonistic
lar.

That traveling light fleeing your sight?
If you can see it, its dead.

Dead still
when you gaze again

pretending that it'll never end.

Love
unfilled

leaves

dried out one's will to live
if not forgiving
oneself and others
freely

letting go.

Until,
fulfilled:

"Your dead will live.
My corpses will rise up.

Awake and shout joyfully,
You residents in the dust!

For your dew is as the dew of the morning,

And the earth will let those powerless in death come to life."

So, dear Aria.
Once again in the future near maybe I'll too with you:

"Enjoy life with your beloved wife all the days of your futile life,
which He has given you under the sun,

all the days of your futility,

for that is your lot in life
and in your hard work at which you toil under the sun.

Whatever your hand finds to do, do with all your might, for there is no work nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom in the Grave, where you are going."

A 'truth' painful or lovely to you?*

Narrator: Andy hears Aria's voice coo.
His heart quickens. He begins to smile.

He leaps off his cot and runs to the bars
where he visualizes Aria with a baby in a carriage
strolling across the stage.

His glazed eyes gaze at her. Lovelier. As always.

Face tranquil. Easy. Without guile.

Andy:Aria!
Thank you. (His arms reaching through.)

You made me remember as advised to:

"Ponder over these things;
be absorbed in them,

so that your advancement may be plainly seen by all people.

Pay constant attention to yourself
and to your teaching.

Persevere in these things, for by doing this you will save both yourself and those who listen to you." 1 Tim. 4:15, 16.

It's no longer a painful truth. I took the reproof.

I am just so sorry that from you I'd selfishly hidden
life-saving proof.

But know you'll always be
a lovely wife to me.

Sleep peaceful. You and thee.

I so look forward again to the future
with our merciful Creator bringing you and our little one
back to be

You, me, he or she
under His Divine Sovereignty.
Us a blossoming universal faithful
eternal family.

(Aria and the baby no longer in sight.)

Narrator: Still, as Andy enjoys the stream
of his sleep-walker dream,

His mother and father nervously to the station appear.
For paying bail set for Andy. His imperfect name to clear.

The curtain closes.

THE END