O Ebenezer. It took so much for you to see your plight. What must three ghosts do? The unbearable memory of lost youth. The tragic storyline of lost love. All the hours undone. Then, the unthinkable. Regret turns into remorse and revelation gives way to a chorus of rejoicing. Ebenezer, the grave has claimed another, redemption has befriended you. The lost years may never return, but the years that await you are without end.
Somewhere, a sword pierces the stillness, a lone voice wails from the mountains. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes with the morning.