The Hearts behind the curtains

iron mask
     It’s a rare event when I sit to watch a movie. Today, I revisited, “The Man in the Iron Mask,” where chivalry and honor were embodied in flesh. Even though it was only in the movies, it was served on a delightful platter.
     Upon seeing  the title, I nearly melted with anticipation. I longed to  be transported to a time when purity, innocence and truth were imbedded so deep within hearts, that the guardians of such, would gladly give their lives to defend them. I curled up in my chair,  fixed my starving eyes upon the screen and waited.
     Oh, how the sweet, dedication of the loyal D’Artagnan, lured my senses, rendering me tender and soft like butter on a fancy dish. Even my breathing changed, it became slower and quieter, almost undetectable,  so that I did not miss a word of the chivalrous D’Artagnan, whose very presence and demeanor was a comfort and inspiration to men and women alike.
      Athos,the great philosopher, who had loved much and lost much, who knew the depth, height and width of love for his country and family, was willing to give his life to  protect them. Because of his suffering, I felt the emptiness and pain. I shared his sorrow.
      I laughed and loved with Porthos, who was an avid lover of women. He was a loyal and devoted subject, but was careless in placing himself in unnecessary danger and unbelievable predicaments. He seemed to crave the blast of adrenaline which surged through his veins during his outlandish adventures.
      Last but not least,  I respected Aramis, the brilliant mind and religious heart,  who led a dual life to enable him to plot and scheme for the good of the people.
     I feasted at the banquet of good deeds. I tasted the thrill of victory and the bitter disappointment of defeat. Nausea assailed me as I got swept away inside the intricacies of governing.  I was witness to  brothers fighting against each other for a cause they believed to be right and would defend that right to the death.
     One cannot have good without the bad, and so this story tells both tales. I, in my tender state, so mellow  and disassociated with discord, was jolted into another realm, when the narcissistic, evil, king of debauchery, disguised as a human, lifted his royal scepter, and deceived the most elect.
      Without intending to, I inhaled the stench of  the moral decay of humanity and my stomach lurched appropriately. I was able to dilute the malodorous fumes by fanning my tender nostrils with my hand, as if I had one of those decorated folded fans, fancy ladies open with a flick of the wrist.
     My traitorous  eyes  set an ambush for me . With them,  I saw the looks of deception pass between hierarchies . I saw  brutality, in its most malignant form, birthed and nurtured and encouraged. Cruelty and evil were spread  like the whipped meringue on top of the tastiest desserts. My appetite waned.  With my piercing gaze, and innate sense of justice, I saw through the shallow façade. I hoped folly would come of the reprehensible plots.
      Intuitively, I knew the virginal, damsel was in dire straights. She was dealing with evil incarnate. His pretty words, and handsome face, mixed with  bribery,  were the intoxicant used to drug her senseless.  The pressure was building deep within my heart! To damage such innocence was unconscionable! If only I could warn her, I’d scream from the highest mountain. If I were a man, I’d don the musketeer code,  dress in my finest frippery and protect those without the ability to protect themselves. I’d brandish my sword, all the while screaming, “All for One, and One for All!”
Good would prevail over evil!
  Reality snapped me back into its somewhat starchy, realm, when the babies woke from their nap. It was the end of that glorious movie, but not the end of all principles. Though I’ll not list them all, one demands my attention. Alas, it matters not, how much one gives of themselves, for right or wrong, even unto death, it is their right to make their own decisions and live with the rewards of such, whether it be good or evil.

1 Comment

Filed under writing

One response to “The Hearts behind the curtains

  1. Donna Ray

    Loved your analogy of the film.

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