My Writings

One Last Time

Blessed are the days in which I threw the illusion from my back like a thick pelt. And although I now stand naked in the biting cold, my senses are awake. I sing a gut-wrenching song, whose highs and lows resonate with the heart of Us.

The heart of Man – eyes wide open, and humbly kneeling, quietly whispers. I have been here before. And I came back again and again, and again, until I confused the Bitter with the Sweet, and, eating dirt, I rejoiced that my veins pump mud, that I am earth-made. And I forgot that I will return to the dirt, pulling me ever stronger towards its embrace as I age. In my delusion, I believed that I will rule forever, and my name will somehow live forever. And I hoped that the day will never come when I am remembered for the last time, and I will truly cease to exist.

But now I look at beast and man, and I feel the ugly screech of the tune they dance to. In their eyes – a distant intellect, a light, as weak and dim as a winter dawn, as if screaming through an old, dirty window. Compassion overwhelms me, as they might not realize their imprisonment, perhaps, not for a million years.

And then I look at myself, asking, what have I done to deserve the imprisonment of the ugly, mortal body. But the memory is lost in a thread stretching into eternity. And what have I been? Everything. A monster, a coward, a hero, a tyrant, a vain hope, and a victim. I was a woman, and then, I was a born a man. I was a beast, now a wolf, now a deer, but a thick curtain has fallen over those lives, as the consciousness of man cannot comprehend the song of a beast.

Somewhere, in the distance, unfelt, unseen, lies my fall from grace. I cannot see when, nor how it happened, but here I am, and the waves of the tragic disgrace, self-inflicted, still crash against my shores.

It matters not. For soon, if He so desires, if He is truly as merciful as I believe, I will be gone. And I will never return. My soul emerges from eternal suffering, and dances to the tune of heartfelt Salvation. I throw away an ego as false as the promise of eternal summer here, in hell, like a snake shedding its skin. Here I am. I am who I am. I accept my nature.

Time grows short, as I prepare for a journey

One

Last

Time.

I have taken my last birth. I will never enter a womb again. My lungs have been filled with air for the first time,

One

Last

Time.

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