Tuesday, 25 January 2011

The Pool of Deepest Blue

High upon the precipice do I stand in awe, the glory of the world before me, its grace and beauty, its violent anger, its raging torment of expression and feeling. Slowly I kneel down, and close my eyes, and breathe in the freshest air of existence, long and deep, revitalising my heart and soul. I smile a content meditation, thoughts so peaceful envelope me, what do I do next? I force my left hand into the dirt below my knees, and rise slowly, taking into account the incredible height around me. I wipe the beads of sweat from my brow, and turn away from the majesty of the view.

Now in front of my eyes, a deep blue, nearly black, it is a pool of emptiness and longing, it draws me closer, ever closer to its soothing liquid. As if in a trance, I move slowly forward, tiny step by tiny step, will I be saved before I reach the pool of deepest blue. Will someone come along and pull me back and revitalise my life once more. I hope I will be saved; I pray to the inner god, that I will be pulled back before it is too late. I see my reflection in the pool, it is distorted, it is a cruel manifestation of what I feel I am. It is a devilish pose, it forces me to close my eyes, I do not like its masquerade, I do not like the way it makes me feel. I want to turn around, I want to turn back towards the light, please bring me back to the light. Do not let me fall into the pool of deepest blue, for once I am smothered in the deep blue liquid, once it has my whole, I will be doomed.

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