worlds apart
(Song by 'Jars of Clay')
The scene had been played out a hundred, thousand times in a hundred, thousand lives. Always it was the same. Always he was betrayed. Always he died. And it was always Lance who gave him over to Death.
They had been trapped in this painful circle for eternity, from the first betrayal to the last. They would always be so trapped, always be so damned, for here was an imbalance that could never be set aright. Lance knew that, had long since stopped trying to change anything, make things better. But he still didn't understand why he was the only one to remember.
Lance hated how helpless fate made him feel, knowing that from the moment he was born until the moment that he died, that he would be the foil that prevented salvation. He hated knowing that he would meet one so pure, so full of sinless grace that the world healed itself after that one had passed. He hated knowing that he would love this Grace, his soul salved and saved, and that for a little while he would be an angel, as pure as his lover, free from the chains of humanity. He hated knowing that he would posses this happiness, this purity of life and love and soul and world, because when the fall came it only hurt more.
And the fall would come, for the other always came. The dark angel, the demonic hero, the sensual, seductive, alluring, evil, the vile and foul other, who would tempt him away from this heavenly love, this happy life by showing him the appetites of humanity that were no longer his. And then Lance would fall, move away from the light and into dark embrace and sin and vice and lustful, shallow, pleasure. Because even if he forgot for awhile, he was human and the dark one could always lure him away with human needs.
When the first betrayal had happened, the dark one had actually been a demon from hell, foul in face, but golden of voice, so golden that it had been easy to tempt Lance away, have him willingly consign his soul to torment for just one hour of pleasure with the honey-tongued demon. But as death forced him into each new life, the demon changed, became as outwardly beautiful as it was twisted inside, until in this newest incarnation its outward form was as beautiful as the day and so human that it was only because Lance knew what it truly was that he was able to know it wasn't human at all. It used to comfort Lance, for he used to believe that the demon took on this beautiful form because Lance knew it for what it was, would be able to resist it better, say no to the temptation and end the cycle, though his soul be damned. He used to believe that until he realized that nothing he did could break the circle, for he would always be too weak, always be too human. No matter what his first lover, his pure, angelic lover, did or said Lance would always be human and he would always betray.
But that never helped the heart-wrenching pain that came every time he lost his salvation. Because every time the purer lover died, he would look at Lance, catch his eyes and forgive him even as the blood ran from his body to pool around him, and the light dimmed and his spirit fled until only the unclean flesh remained. And every time he died, Lance wanted to cry--did cry. He wanted to rush forward, save his lover from this unclean, unholy death, beg for the forgiveness already given.
But it would always be too late.
It was too late now, for he could feel the pull of fate, feel it draw him forward. He had already betrayed this new incarnation of Grace, if not in the flesh than in his heart. Now all that was left of this never ending play was to let him die.
Fate lead him to death, but it would not be his today. Lance watched in helpless sorrow as he was saved once more, watched as that which could have brought the world to safety died once more. He watched the red blood pool, the black hair move in a breeze in false mockery of life. He watched with eyes dry--for he had wept his tears away lifetimes ago--as his friends surrounded the fallen body, wailed over the senseless death, bore the empty shell away. He was distant from it all, until the demon came to bring him away as well. It laid its hand upon his waiting, willing shoulder, flesh hungrily seeking contact with the source of all sinful pleasure even as his soul shied away in disgust.
"Come on, Lance. It's going to be night soon." The hand pulled and his captive flesh followed in impatient anticipation.
But as they passed the already drying blood, Lance paused, looked down with dispassionate eyes and a soul too tired to weep anymore. There should be something said now, some sort of apology for this new betrayal though all his words of regret had long since been uttered. Still, something should be said, something should be done if only to acknowledge that once more the world had been betrayed.
He dropped to his knees, hard and sudden, so quickly that the demon had no time to register the action, its hand still hovering in the air. Lance dropped and clasped his hands, as though to pray--but no words, no whispered thoughts or soul-wrenching cries for salvation, forgiveness, peace, hope, or happiness would come. It was too late to pray, for his soul was too far entrenched to be rescued.
But still he tried, still he hoped and wished and wanted. Still he knelt, pants stained by rusty blood, wanting so badly to ask for an end, for a freedom from this trapped life.
The demon's hand descended, shook his shoulder, impatient with this sudden change of the already established routine. "Come on, Lance."
Lance sighed, stood slowly, head still bowed. "All right, Keith. I'm coming."
The demon nodded, started to move away, grip tightening and drawing Lance away from the patch of blood. He stood a moment longer, before lifting his head, gazing up at the sunset stained sky. The demon tugged impatiently, coal black eyes filled with smoldering passion. Lance took a step, looked back and sighed again. There was only one thing to say, now, only one thing that his empty soul could think of to begin to express his regret.
"I'm sorry, Sven."
words to "World's Apart" by Jars of Clay
I am the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all ends up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icharus I collide
With a world I tried so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love, to give and die
To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the sink of one who loves
More deeply than the oceans, more abundant than the tear
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice
Or grip the spear and watch the blood and water flow
To love you - take my world apart
To need - I am on my knees
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - broken on my knees
All said and done I stand alone
Amongst remains of a life I should not own
It takes all I am to believe
In the mercy that covers me
Did you really have to die for me
All I am for all you are
Because what I need and what I believe are worlds apart
And I pray
To love you - take my world apart
To need - I am on my knees
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - broken on my knees
I look beyond the empty cross
Forgetting what my life has cost
And wipe away the crimson stains
Dull the nails that still remain
More and more I need you now
I owe you more each passing hour
The battle between Grace and Pride
I gave up not so long ago
So steal my heart and take the pain
And wash my feet and cleanse my pride
Take the selfish, take the weak
And all the things I cannot hide
Take the beauty, take my tears
My sin and so far, make it yours
Take my world, all of it
Take it now, take it now
And serve the ones that I despise
Speak the words I can't deny
And watch the world I used to know
Fall to dust and blow away
I look beyond the empty cross
Forgetting what my life has cost
And wipe away the crimson stains
And dull the nails that still remains
And steal my heart and take the pain
Take the selfish, take the weak
And all the things I cannot hide
Take the beauty, take my tears
And take my world apart
And take my world apart
And I pray
And I pray
And I pray
Take my world apart
Worlds apart
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