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Rated: E · Prose · Mystery · #1359096
A Short story. Written by use of imaginative yet simplistic overtones.
I awoke to the sound of my own heart, thundering agaist my soul. The drums threw me into a peaceful yet powerful awakening. Awakening of spirit, sights and sounds of which all ignore. Ignorance, it will take you to where you've always wanted to be. I sat up on the cold stone, which served as my birth place and death bed. I threw on the blood red cloak of my ancestors, it smelled of; roses, tears and rain. I then started to walk on the road of which was set before me at the time of birth, it was dark dreary and lonesome. Yet I did not know anything else so for me it was bright, wholesome and contained many souls of which all did my bidding. I was free.

I began each day at the line of eternity, waiting for my call. The call was for a special opportunity. The oppurtunity of revelation and reverence. When will my time come?. I stood on the sunny side of a crowd that consisted of all "free" thinking men, women and children. The time of day was mid-afternoon the sun was warm against my neck, I felt beads of sweat trickle down my back. It was painful.

"Lord of the lands", the caller shot across eternity. I heard yet remained still, for this was me, it was my time. Time for what?, men wait outside the gates of a land that none has ever seen, hear of felt. Yet we are drawn toward the unknown, why is this?. I stepped forward to make my presence known, the caller directed me toward the door leading to the gates. "He waits for you", the caller, now softly spoken said in a envious voice. I walked forward, toward the door leading to nowhere; toward the unknown.

I entered the door, a single man stood before me cloaked in the chains of a black robe. Beyond him, lay the land of the unknown. I stood in silence, waiting for him to speak. He stood silent. "What must I do?", I asked, my voice revealed my excitement, for it was high pitched with fright. Fright of what?. He stepped aside letting me through toward the gates.

I stood at the gates, it was waxed in gold. They flung open, the path before me was a lightened path derived and revived from a long forgotten truth. I stood, revealed yet cloaked neath my own perception of "reality". The minds of my inner self began shouting obcenities, they were dismissing what I was seeing and feeling. I ignored them, for they were nothing but slaves, slaves of a world that was and will never be again. On either side of the path lay millions of men, wasted on either side crawling yet alert against the tides of structure, conformity and sizable conquests. I stood watching, chained in my own silence, sights and feeling of oblivion. I moved closer to the crawling men, they were drenched in a liquid of what looked like blood, milk and the sky way's blue tears. I then felt my feet rumble, for the rock from which I stood turned to dust. I fell. Fell in the eternal abyss of un-belief, dumbfoundness and lack of faith. I was lost. I fell back into the world of which I was born into. WHERE AM I?
© Copyright 2007 Cloak & Dagger (illuminations at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1359096-Prose-StoryPhilisophical-Parable