PRISONER EXPRESS

It is when, as a boy, David slew the giant Goliath despite a probable terror, in loyalty to his God. It is when King Leonidas of Lacedaemon and his three-hundred Spartans defended Greece against the Persian hordes, in loyalty to his people. It is when some of the so-named witches, under the torture of religious zealots, refused to admit to crimes they did not commit, in loyalty to the truth. Or, in prison, when you are surrounded with people about to beat you up, and then a person steps up with you, to stand with you against the odds, in loyalty to friendship. And as such, it goes.

And so, regardless of pain or pleasure, gifts or pressure it will not be persuaded to change and abandon the precious object of dedication. Loyalty goes through the forge of fire that life's hardship brings, past the paradise that can come through its worthwhile joys; it is still true and steadfast. It's sometimes tested and broken by these things, yet occasionally it is refined into the purest gold, beyond value in our shifting world. It is the highest expression of the noble portion of the inner human.

Upon reflection of my past, the present world of ours, and the future, I think more loyalty is needed, in all of us. It's true that all of us have been disloyal in some time or fashion. But life is lived now, in the present. Some have said that the weak cannot do this virtue, or the inferior cannot be it. But I say that if you really believe in the truth of your loyalty's object, then no matter the person, they will be loyal to the utmost. As an old proverb states, "To know and not to do is not to know."

So then the question is what shall one be loyal to? To a political ideal, to a state or nation, to a race? To a deity, to a religion, to a man? To friendship? Or, possibly the most difficult, the truth? Or the easiest, yourself? Nothing? Whatever it may or may not be for others, I choose life above all others. To me, loyalty to life is all of the above, and maybe more. In particular, the most noble, beautiful, and functional aspects of life, because should humans not strive for excellence? Certainly not squalor, hate or barbarianism.

And yet, all the fine words to the side, it is the hell of prison that brought the realization to me. This is a paradox I hope to understand, how difficulties can produce character. I suppose it may just be my loyalty to the value of life.