Darkest deepest pit. Memories of times past lay withered and faded in the old trunk.
She picks them up, one by one and stares at the thing she holds in her hand.
She feels sadness, feels anger, at times a nothingness, vague memories, no emotion.
Tears refuse to shed as the heart denies any feelings. The mind is clouded with thoughts that mean nothing.
Thoughts that go nowhere followed by yet more nothingness. A way is closed, a path lost and forgotten.
What is the meaning, where is the purpose? Nothingness does not reply – emptiness remains silent.
She is in the midst of the dark night of her soul.
Emotions begin to creep in. Walls are thrown up as she blocks any feeling that might open things. Denial, refusal to remember.
Doors slam shut and only the silence of nothing remains. No reason, no meaning, only the keeper of the black void.
Demons, spirits surround her. From the darkest deepest pit they come and taunt her.
So easy, oh, so easy to lie down and let the void take her to a death of bliss where no pain no thoughts exist. Let the Angel of Death take me now she begs.
Darkest deepest pit ~
Somewhere, someone, so far away yet oh so close, was once there for her. Someone who could heal her and once took her beyond the darkness by taking her through the darkness.
The edge was ever close, tempting, beckoning and one night she jumped off to nothingness and into darkness.
How long? Where has it taken her and how long must she stay?
Is there not something she had once wanted? Somewhere she wanted to go? Questions, so many questions creeping in that displace the nothingness.
The mind starts working again, the heart begins once again to yearn and cry out for someone. Who and where?
Long ago, a time where she could see without her eyes, touch without her hands and hear a voice from afar.
A voice ~
I will take you back to him, a voice says. He is still there, waiting.
A form, a spirit rises in front of her. The one who had always been with her, Spiritual Guide, who is even now there.
She looks up at him and cries out in her despair. Tears finally flow, burning her face, as she remembers the teacher who wanted to help her find her true home.
Spirit holds out a hand to her. Let me lift you up, he is waiting.
And she stands, holding out her hand to Spirit.
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© Copyright 2016 All Rights Reserved Phyllis Doyle Burns
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