This sanctuary I have chosen, once so inspiring and profound, has become my prison to that I am bound.
Forever allowing me to gain entrance into the night, like the prey of the waiting spider, she knows I must turn to her in my plight. Walk her grounds and see the names of those she has taken within her arms, those that hear my footsteps can hear my thoughts, for my tears awaken them to both, and they awaken to pose the question silently…”Is he lost?”
Perhaps they too once walked with me. I cannot avoid them. They are curious of me and always wishing to converse with me. Some are more coarse than they are pleasant. Perhaps this prison we inhabit has become a haven of discontentment. Perhaps some think my presence is cause for them to lament. There are many voices in such a place of those who have no choice but to be silent.
Some are curious of life, and others lament the lack of it. Some are mournful, others are forewarning, and some wish me to be their friend. Some plead for me not to repeat their misfortunes, and others beg the question “Why?” Those I can converse with all share one crisis in common: they physically are unlike me. They are not flesh like I. I share not their home, and those who lament my presence take satisfaction knowing that I too shall be shackled to the very womb within our earth where their home will also one day be my own.
And then as I walk, I sense something I have sensed each time I travel this quiet town of mine. I sense torture and decay. The kind of stench that can only come from the conversations of black eyes and even blacker hearts. Their sinister whispers can be heard from a distance, but faintly enough I somehow sense their meanings…They are truly the demons I have been breeding.
They beg me to entertain them, implore me to engage them and invite me to become them. Offering me all the wishes the flesh adore. To hear the voices I long to hear, to take away all of my childish fears, to make those familiar faces reappear. They offer me these beautiful familiarities and so much more. They offer me to be judged, and found guilty never more…to see all I have longed to see and more…
Their gentle whispers find a home within my lonely soul. They reach a point of no return and ask me pay their woeful toll, uttering the words that they require to be upon my stone. So I can then fulfill my dreams and thus call this place home. Never to leave and in a world of unknowns I’m assured, I’ll be home, and for this gift I may no longer search or drift.
As I dream of their lies, I remember these words that come true to those only who died. Yet I hear in my heart just a whispering voice of someone no longer alive…he is begging of me to never give up, but is pleading instead to “Please try”. This voice I hear seems known to me…perhaps this voice is kin to me. I cannot make out the words, for these violent foes harken their sins to me…but this voice calls out to something within…I must find the origin of this voice of reason. Who does this voice belong to? Why do these black hearts speak of this voice and mention treason?
I search all over trying to silence these vicious hounds of hell. I try to hear in place of them the voice in my heart I know well. The voice to whom their shouts will say, “Silence! He is ours! His direction is the curiosity of our dissension! Do not attempt to gain his attention! Lead him not, for his soul is ours, and soon here he will rot!” I make my mind blank and focus instead upon the voice with the loving words…I try to follow the voice in question by asking, “Are you of honorable mention? Do you have reason to speak to me to discuss prevention? If so dear voice, may I give you a name? Can I venture to say that we share the same? If not dear sir, have I wronged you? Is your distance the torture of this life’s part two? Do you speak to me in worry and need with the wisdom to impart to?”
“I must again ask you, why hide your voice? Is it forced or is it by your choice? May I beg to question this and more? Have we shaken hands before? Why do you wish to keep so obscured? Is your voice the voice that once assured? Why must we play this silly game? Just tell me sir, what is your name? Please speak louder so I can know. Do they hide you because I love you so?” Angels above me please remove these distortions…allow me please to hear but a portion….I wish for my mind to have full absorption.
As my footsteps fall to a calmer gait, my heart begins to slow its rate, as now I’ve discovered our signature trend. To speak at night and at mornings end; and now as always I will survive the day to be there in the evenings so that our minds may play. I continue my quest for our words unsuppressed, in search of my most sought after friend. Every night is the same. We leave clues in this game, but if you bear a familiar name…I can only hope I share the same.