Resurrection Stories

The Christmas present ticked and would open soon. They've chosen one out of billions annually since the Code was deciphered because its power must be limited. They placed the box in my home on Christmas Eve, timer set for eight in the morning. I'm waiting in the living room now, heart thundering, unknowable sciences about to bring you back. You'll be there, naked. Alive. Every memory retained. Even your death. You'll ask...

Every wound heals Leaving you with scars Some big and some small I see you struggling day in day out standing in by lanes of life Unable to soothe your hurts and not letting me heal you, I see you scratching your old healed scabs Making them bleed afresh. I see a weary soldier fighting for his soul, A fight he loses sometimes or wins a minor war. I make you crave dreams, family, and love All hallucination of desert mirage...