agonia
english

v3
 

Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission Contact | Participate
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
armana Poezii, Poezie deutsch Poezii, Poezie english Poezii, Poezie espanol Poezii, Poezie francais Poezii, Poezie italiano Poezii, Poezie japanese Poezii, Poezie portugues Poezii, Poezie romana Poezii, Poezie russkaia Poezii, Poezie

Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special

Poezii Romnesti - Romanian Poetry

poezii


 

Texts by the same author


Translations of this text
0

 Members comments


print e-mail
Views: 2438 .



The Undividable
personals [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Lacargia ]

2004-12-31  |     | 



As I noticed the reflection of the natural light changing its shade into crimson, I raised my head from above the myriad of white and blue spattered paper, form the sanctuary of the erudite, and gazed into the glass. The Sun was violently setting, being pulled down from the sky by Cronos. This terrible act of murder was hidden form my eyes behind the gray buildings, clever Cronos letting me see only the blood stains on the sky. Down, in the streets, people were quickening their steps, wanting to reach the safety of their houses before the last shred of light was put out. Their number was lessening, until there was none left, until the cemented alleyways evoked the phosphorent desert nights. As the Sun screamed out his last rays, dying everything outside in blood, I watched, from the other side of the glass, the mute spectacle of death, praying for deliverance from darkness, praying to surpass this Night’s temptation.
Darkness fell upon the world too quickly, for, in the excitement of the spectator, I had forgotten to light the candle. Terror possessed me, the terror of falling into fear of darkness, the terror of loosing faith. I could see there were others, across the street, within the gray buildings, who had their candles lit. Their windows permitted the light to pierce the coal night, while I was letting my solace, my place of shelter to be engulfed by the night’s blackness. I couldn’t dare to move, to search for a source of light, for the fear of the expected consequences had petrified me to the spot, in front of the cold windowpane, letting me only to stare into the abyss. I called out desperately for any kind of help, but my scream was as quiet to the outside as the outside was to me. Deserted by light, sound and movement, I fell into heavy slumber...

...I’m standing here in this anemic room, as I have always been alive in this moment, in front of the thick cold glass, staring into her, into my reflection, as she has always been with me, as she has always been inside me, as she has always been me.
I see him standing there still, aside me, as he has always been there, unmoved by my imperfection, unfrightened by my lack of faith. A flickering divine light, never engulfed by the shadows of my soul, an iron hand steering me forth, never astray, an entity surrounding me as no other form of matter ever did.
Around us, nothing. Nothing but the atrophied atmosphere of my own weak breath. And in the middle of this material absence, The Tree reveals its presence. I can feel him waiting for me on the other side of the glass, waiting for me to open the window and stretch out for his fruit. He is calling out for me. How can I resist? I raise my hands and the glass shatters into infinite pieces. The boundary has fallen, the bridge is rebuilt. I reach out to embrace. I feel it close. I am so close...If only there was no Interdiction...

I returned to my earthly place as the Sun’s rebirth bathed the world in heavenly light, and, as warmth overwhelmed me, I received the Message openly. It was my reminder that I am never alone. Even when sunlight fades, when darkness shrouds the last shreds of living hope, when the outside silence waits to steal away my sanity, when static sucks out the ephemeris from the eternal, when the journey looses its compass. It was my reminder that I am not alone, even on this side of the glass.

.  |










 
poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii poezii
poezii
poezii Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. poezii
poezii
poezii  Search  Agonia.Net  

Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net

E-mail | Privacy and publication policy

Top Site-uri Cultura - Join the Cultural Topsites!