Echoe's Lament

Several Years ago I had the privilege of working on a piece of literature with a fellow writer. Anyone that knows me realizes that any time I meet talent I see it as special. In this case the person whom worked on this piece with me was an extraordinarily person. To this I give you our thoughts together of a creator or creators of the universe and how he/she/they might just see the way we destroy eachother, physically and mentally. It is about living in nothing for an eternity, creating something special, then watching as the loss of it plagues your existence in the nothingness of eternity and beyond. – TMx 2012

Echo's Lament

Imagine if you would with me; a dream a cosmic dream of the past and of the future. Give to me a sigh to mine ears so that you are heard as I am heard, and we will travel to a time before times, and a place before places, together and yet alone. One which no human could bear, and a loneliness not seen even within the spaces deep within the darkest tallest mountains.

This place, gold and chrome, but not anything that you can behold.
For there is now, nothing to behold, before creations time, a place above, within, and below you now, and yet still in the silence of time itself; nowhere.
Imagine with me blackness darker than night.
As I walk away your journey begins.
You are in a solitude of blackness devoid of day and devoid of night.
This place where not but a thought wanders in the dark.
Clear your mind because you need not clear your mind, there is nothing to think about as if you had no life at all in a place where there is no starry sky to behold in the nigh or the day.
Imagine if you could to not think a thought throughout all of your lifetime.
Imagine if you would to live in a room of nothing so big you could never touch the walls, but you would not know what a wall even was.
All of everything is nothing but you, and you float meaninglessly in the nothing.
All of you is nothing, but wandering conscious.
No birds to be hold no one to forgive, nothing to be forgiven, nothing to be forgotten in the void that is your world.
Nothing looks at you because there is nothing to see you.
No one can forget you because there is nothing of you to forget.
If this was a place you would be alone before time began.
How would it be in the nothing?
How do you feel now? Perhaps now you can relate.
A place beyond lonely, beyond sorrow in a place of black space.
It has been so long you were alone in nothing and nowhere.
No knowledge of time you float for an eternity, completely unaware and alone.
First curiosity touches at the sight of this.
It is a giant building in the space of nothing you have found. So suddenly you become aware that it is. You do not know what to think as you finally after a hundred years find the door to this warehouse.

In a thousand more years more than your life tenfold you realize it is a warehouse was full of only paint and canvas.
It would take so long to even learn how to open the paint after you find what it is without any teaching at all, and where to put it is another million years alone.
This new place, but you do not know how to paint at all, or even what you are seeing.
You know not how it even came to be. Your gentle touches and movements all around slowly learn what these things are. But still in this place, alone, only here because it is here and not for a moment’s reason more. You exist within this place of an artist’s dream, but you have no dreams. Ten thousand years more passes.

Seemingly stick figures and splashes you learn and toss out of the warehouse your mistakes. But over a billion more years, much longer than a million of your lifetimes all by yourself you finally start to paint things you can see in your mind. As you become self aware you even paint you. You paint a world, and this world you throw out of the warehouse and it is in this moment you realize that it so perfect in the way you made it, it becomes a world! You gaze in awe as it moves by itself floating in the nothing, alone as you are.

You see now, as you now understand, but it is still a thousand more years you paint only worlds. Nothing more; just worlds, then suns, moons, comets in the sky. Utter perfection to your eyes you behold!

What a wonderful universe you have made indeed. Looking out of the door to your warehouse into the nothing, you have made something. Then another trillion years you perfect your painting skills so well you make life. You become aware of your loneliness, but in your joy of the life you have made you see you are no longer alone! You realize that for an unbearable unknown eternity you have been alone! It is wonderful to see these new life forms!

But many millions of years more you finally see that you are running out of paint! The canvas numbers have shrunk so much that you can almost count the ones remaining standing each tall upon its easel! You paint slower and with more intent. Fear that you need more you begin to paint again, and of you tell me the most important thing that you can behold, the most perfect person you know, for who is it? With this image of emotion and dream combined you behold this perfect person even if you never knew them in your life as you live now. Picture them, and now paint!

This is it you are so very very close! A thousand years more and you paint what you believe to be the best yet. They appear before you as your creation, so alive that they reach out to you. With your last canvas to use you paint so carefully that they become alive before you even finish their face. This wonderful person you know looks upon you in wanting desire for only to praise and thank you!

You love them with everything you are! they reach out with the one arm they have and touch yours and they sing your name and how they love you with a voice so beautiful. They say always how they will be anything you want for them to be. They tell you that only you matter to them, and that they want and need nothing other than you in her devotion you know they are
real. And in their thoughtful adventurous tales you love this perfect person so very much with all that you are, it takes another thousand years to even come close to completing them. Your careful hand now as perfect as it can be in the art as they sing your praise. For so long you paint so slowly each thought that they are; each new memory you both create now. Every tiny stroke that makes them is exactly what you want moves even within you with devotion and love.

And as this person you love with everything you are reaches for you to kiss you with a desire you have never felt, you have a new emotion of love desire, passion and devotion. Just as you are about to touch, someone comes along from out of no where and sets them on fire!
As they burn you can hear your memories fade in their screams! Nothing you can do can stop the fire as it consumes her in its despair! Your hands scaled as you try desperately to put the fire out! In a few moments the screams fade and you are left with memories, burnt hands, and a pile of ashes. Then the culprit smiles and walks away. How do you feel as you stare helplessly at the ashes? The one you loved for so long is now gone for an eternity, an eternity which you already know you cannot bear alone, yet you are now alone.

How do you think our creator feels when you kill? Lucky for us we do not know what it is to spend eternity alone. We make simple the thoughts of others and thrive on suffering. But is it not an odd thing that we care so little for the lives of others. Thinking about it now Cosmics' believe that each and every precious person is created for one creator. You as you are created for a creator that want's for you to be just as you are. Now if you kill the creation of another how do you think it ends? When you intentionally hurt others how do you think their creators feel?

Within the room you sit, wherever you are we sit before you. Many words could be spoken but to your ears what is the point for your past is set. I must ask you though, how do you think the creators of those around you feel when you hurt the ones they have created? Think long and hard about your past, and what you do to others. Think about the lies you tell yourself to make yourself feel better about how you have taken from others. Think about the commandments you have broken, think about yourself, and then know this creation will not be the one asking you why, it will be the creators of the ones you hurt that will ask you simply if you would want to spend an eternity with you. Think about what you give back, and then you will know. Stay this path Cosmic and you will find the one that can love you like no other.

This is Echo's Lament

The Echo
&
Thomas Mind

This post is dedicated to The Echoe, to wherever the bird might land in time and space may you have flown your path of peace in these darkest of days, to your end be it a beginning in a place understood not by man. –TMx 2012