Out of Exile

My dear friend,

I dreamt of a swarm of locusts, of wheat rotted in the fields, and the burning fires of perdition... I awoke, journeying onward along the walking path. Ahead lay the doom of desire, but behind, the wonder of a direction opposite. Has not this road I've traveled so far led me here to the sorrow of my condition? I wonder, dear friend, if behind lay the hope I'd abandoned and the answer to my prayers? What might become of me should I turn and walk the other way? Should I close ...