My Writings

The Death of the World – Part III

To think that a glass of water would be sufficient, for a lifetime of thirst. To say that a naked man will live through winter, alone, no shelter. Lunacy. And yet I believed, that the world will show mercy, and let go of me, willingly. Mongol tactics, to be shot in the back, while attempting an escape.

But Truth was whispered to me, by a Caring one. Already free, you are not of the world. Stricken by unfamiliar arguments, like a rare disease, the mind-flame trembles. Phrases of a higher Speech. Edicts of supreme Authority. Unbelievable suggestions.

A Name can be called at the time of death, to achieve release, from aimless wandering. Final age, fourth arm of the wheel, the last great gasp of the world. My Lord will be besieged by nightmares, hours before dawn. Wake up, Sire, I scream. Come back to us, I shake his body, and erase us.

Stare at me, dead in the eyes, and seek a trace of humor. Laughing matter, you will find none. All Good comes from Him, all Sampradayas find their roots at His feet. We were all released, like birds from a cage, by His hands. Thrown into existence, in flight since then.

My time to land has come.


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