Vile

Listen, child. What I am is not what I was. You come to me for wisdom. You come to me for enlightenment. You come to me for answers. In your eyes, I am a saint. I assure you, I was no saint.

I was a vile person. A person consumed by fear. My world terrified me. My every action was to benefit myself. To protect myself. I had friends, but they left. I could not be trusted.

I was alone and afraid. So I made myself strong. I feared harm so I became able to harm. I buried my fear with anger. Any transgression would receive my wrath. The world would be terrified of me.

The fearful aligned themselves with me. I had an army. And I thought, The world would not be terrifying if it bent to me. I set my horde upon the earth. Cities fell. Murder befell by my word and by my own hand. I was wrath. I was judgment. I was death.

I had a dream. A blinding figure appeared to me. And I felt something I had not felt in a long time. Fear. But they said, Do not be afraid. They asked, Are you thirsty? I was. They asked, Will you drink? I would. The person of light dipped their finger into a chalice and placed a drop of liquid upon my tongue.

It was a long, terrible journey, but the seed had been planted. I gave up death. I took up mercy, humility, and selflessness. My armies forsook me. For I gave up my power and control. I was exiled. Now you come to me. Child, I do not tell you this to diminish who I am. But to give you hope. Who you were does not extinguish who you can be.