Click for: THE GHOST REMOVAL – PART 2
The last of my words trickled off my breath with declining fervor–anticipation glowing in the dark. Then a vision of cataclysmic power sent spasms through my unsuspecting irises.
The crimson was back again, this time painting the sky with apocalyptic illusions. Halos and dreams fell from the black/red ethereal sky, on fire and in droves, landing in the dark red frothy sea to float unattended and disregarded. And there I was yet again, floating aimlessly amidst it all. The red ether continued to pour from my fingertips filling the red sea and drowning the halos and dreams struggling to exist amongst the catastrophe.
With the pouring of my soul into this darkened void, a flock of ravens appeared from a falling dream. With nowhere to perch, they continued downward, intertwining and weaving themselves between the falling debris before gliding through one of the many imminent dreams continuing downward towards the sea. With somewhat of a magical zeal, the dream unfolded in mid-demise and halted itself just before plunging into the darkened depths of death and the unknown. What unfolded was immensely profound yet thoroughly provocative.
The ravens entered the silhouetted dream and traveled through an aphotic fog as thick as the darkness surrounding the beast and myself. With grace and elegance, the ravens piloted themselves through the heavy fog, breaking through the barrier and into cerulean skies, guiding themselves above a deep green ravine and towards a perch overlooking an even more azure ocean. As the flock slowed their travel, a rustic sarcophagus became more distinct near the edge of the cliff that overlooked the ocean. Once near enough, the ravens hovered over the sarcophagus and set down atop the massive monument. Etched in the stone burial chamber, an epitaph glowed, giving way to a revelation and a salvaged dream:
“duae animae sub blis sub caelo in crastinum.”
(“Two souls under bliss, beneath the skies of tomorrow.”)
The red sky that I lay beneath began to recede, leaving a yellowish hue in its wake. Somehow the unfolded dream began to break and dismantle the illusion, carving away the deathly red hues. But as quickly as the crimson auras of the sky began to dissipate, Odium let out a furious roar and charged yours truly in a mad sprint of hunger and insanity. The illusion/delusion was broken and back into the deprecated cavern I now emerged.
Accepting the end, I stood my ground and awaited the dispatch of my person that would send me to my grave. It was finally upon this disheveled patron of Verrine, the demon of impatience. One final breath before it is all over. Goodbye to the real world…hello to the real world…
Silence filled the cavern after the echoing bestial roar dissipated. I was still here and it seemed unfathomable. As if the dreamland floor my soul escapades about closes around me to veil the pain, blocking and concealing all negative aspects to produce a miasma of salvation, purple starlight-shadows, and a shoal of black orchids—withering petals dancing about me in a joyous event.
With all of my thoughts careening over this unmerciful reality, the heavy hand of the beast, which was beforehand meant to impale me with decadent pleasure, came down before me on the limestone gravel not 1/16ths of an inch from my person. The distance was unbearable for all I could make out was the hand and extending arm (the light from above making this possible)—the rest of the beast shrouded in darkness. The darkness it undertook was glowing with hatred. With one long rust-colored talon, it formed in the dust a single arrow that pointed to the right of my person.
With that, its hand released itself back into the darkness it was incarcerated within. Its red eyes appeared, although less ghastly and more empathetic; smaller and smaller they became. Into the depths it went, leaving my ragged self free from calamity.
With new found directions, I fled with haste and limped into the unannounced darkness for as long as a mile. As I grew more weary and grief-stricken with every decaying, dilapidated step, I became hyper-aware that my clothes began to disappear. My shirt was the first to go, the smear of blood entrenching down my chest while blood ran upwards from both hands (how strange the physics of this cave react), followed by my trousers and eventual undergarments. I was impervious to the matter, for redemption was imminently close!
I came upon the splinter of white light yet again as it was aimed diagonally at my upper chest, highlighting the bloody area just below my left clavicle. I followed and came upon a massive rock slide. Naked, barefoot (the darkness took my shoes as well?) and in immense pain, I began the ascent. Climbing, the splinter grew brighter and brighter with every blood strewn step as my feet were ravaged upon the jagged rocks. My trail of blood and sweat was the only sign that someone had made it this far beyond the grasp of the creature left in darkness. Godspeed to my aching soul!
Alas what lay at the top of this mountain of shards but a solid, old, oak door with rusted hinges, bolts and cracks. It was no bigger than a small armoire or cabinet door. A weathered crevice was home to the white, now warm light. The light gave off an aroma, which was soothing warmth. I threw the solid door open with as much veracity as my war torn body could produce. The brightness was hot and blinded me to no end. White and glorious it was as I emerged from the cave, the bête noire to the world that it was and will always remain.
The chirping and singing of birds and the like relieved my senses and coalesced my innate workings into a haphazard heartbeat. My dense emotions corresponded to those of a knight returning from a war long fought and heavily paid with casualties (in my case, time). Through this door of renewal, I emerged soot slung and disheveled. My person was of an image not far from the degenerates and derelicts of the empty box carts and abandoned areas of underpasses.
But oh what glories awaited my presence! Flowers of every species and color surrounded me in a rainbow of delight. Insects buzzed happily within the petals of beauty. Plentiful trees flourished and gave shade and bright red apples, luminous oranges, and sun-kissed lemons as a reward for surviving the horrors below. The door I had emerged from lay on the side of an abundantly green glorious hill. And beyond this hill, many others continued into the vast horizon—mountains of green on three sides. In front of me, past the beauty of the vegetation which the flowers produced, an opaque forest sprawled from horizon to horizon. Rabbits and deer, beavers and the dreaded skunk, appeared out of nowhere to greet and congratulate me upon my return to the land. A beautiful fawn galloped amongst the thickets and overgrown shrubs in a mock victory dance.
A trickling of a small creek suddenly awakened my consciousness and I followed the beautiful noise. The refreshingly clean noise led me to a bed of water about, but not limited to, the size of a modern day bathtub. In the nude I went to cleanse myself of all the self pity, regret, negligence, and so on. Down into the water was a joyous act on its own for it was deeper than it let on.
I continued to sink deeper and deeper into the depths of the water, becoming slightly concerned at the thought of breaking through to the cavern again, but disregarding the notion as the blood from my chest and hands turned the clear water murky with my anemic fluids. I watched the uplifting and removal of these elements in a fascinated trance, unbeknownst that I was clearly defying laws of human nature by not only surviving the horrors below, but by remaining underwater for a long period of time. Yet, I did not panic nor adjust my thought to the past (or present for that matter).
As I resurfaced, I became slightly nauseated. The feeling of a burning, numbness undertook my senses. In all the same, the forest, cavern door, and distant horizons of beautiful rolling green hills begun to fade away into an obscure yellowish white, the same from my terrifying disillusion from down below (…leaving a yellowish hue in its wake…), like that of a fairly worn tile wall. A bloody, crude drawing of an arrow lay rampant and vulgar on the wall to my right (…it formed in the dust a single arrow…). To my slight left, an alarm clock stared back at me with glowing crimson numbers (…its red eyes now appeared…). Diagonally to my left, atop an old oak cabinet, an aroma therapy candle burnt the last of its wick into the silver base (…splinter of white light…). Strangely enough, the ZAO album “Liberate Te Ex Inferis”, which I so notably had on vinyl, was off the needle and skipping an entire chorus of bird-like guitar notes (…chirping and singing of birds…).
All seemed surreal and I languished for more of the self pity I had somehow lost within the depths of that cavern far away. The vision/dream heavily silhouetted my rightful and proper demise. All of the former envisioned fell through a clouded veil of remorse and relief.
As the bathtub I undertook continued to overflow (…a trickling of a small creek…) I took the razor out of my skin (…red ether…) and clamored out into a new world—a divine world of immortal harmony, and the learning of tragedies. Bequeathed are my remains as I am reborn, swimming in open veins, nevermore.
“Illos ista macula Amor moris victum Mors”
(“Those that stain Love will conqueror Death”) – Odium