Bitter sweetness of indifference,
shrug off inhibiting cocoon
Wings poised,
readyflight with uncharted winds..
I am inside her. A pungent smell overwhelms me but oddly, it does not irritate. The smell wakes me up when my mind flutters into existence, as it does every day now. I cannot see and I cannot hear. The odor is the only feeling that keeps me company. I do not know what my purpose is just yet. That is probably because I cannot move. Discoveries are only revealed when one makes an effort to seek it. I have not had that privilege just yet.
My surroundings have been thawing away minute by minute. I remember the moment I first realized existence. I was bound so tight I found it difficult to breathe. After my second awakening however, the strings that had bound me tight released some of their mighty grip. I spent days interpreting their graciousness. Was it out of pity? Were they only teasing my fragile mind, soon to shatter my false hopes of freedom and grip me tighter than ever before? Before long, I realized that the strings themselves had no power of their own. They were being guided by a higher power. A power unseen but a power that reeked of love.
I can feel the breeze now and the unnourished air has an aroma that is so refreshing. A few of the strings clutch on for their own individual last gasps. They must know by now that they have served their purpose and it’s time for me to move on. Miss me the strings shall, until another spirit discovers existence. Some of the strings will die, scorched by the searing heat of the sun. Most will return back into their shell and remain observant. To find and envelope a new lost soul, a naked spirit released from the gates of heaven or shunned from the cages of hell. I feel exhilarated at my proximity to freedom. However, no longer will I be protected. The strings imprisoned me, guided by the astuteness of my mother. The strings also cosseted me, blanketing me from the sun and feeding me water and food through their own pores. Selfless, they were thus deliberately ignorant of their pain and sacrifice. The last of the strings slithered away from their futile clinging. I am but a child, tip-toeing my way into the unknown.
……………………………………….
The shadows always seem to haunt me. I have tried walking in the dark to see if the shadows vanish upon realizing the enormity of black. Even the almighty sun cowers at her mere appearance, hiding behind the white, sacred light of the moon. Never peeking out until the dark says goodbye to the world after her mandatory twelve hours have passed. She was the gatekeeper to the haunting doors of hell and to displease the dark would be unwise indeed. Drift away into avoidable thoughts, I must not.
The wings have begun to weigh me down as I run through numerous days of awakening. Days become nights, nights become days, and the only constant is the repeated awakening from my dreams. Daily. Unvarying. Unavoidable. I do not know why my wings have started to feel heavier but it must be because the corruption was not sudden. Those nasty devils found their malignant way home inch by bitter inch, like nails that slowly pummel their way through a freshly painted wall. I wish I had fond memories of the innocence of the years that have gone by. Instead, all that my wings bear are guilt. Void of peace. Hungry for salvation.
As a youngling, I tried to spark conversation at the meeting grounds. The elders told me to. The grounds were a foreboding place at first. None of the other creatures fluttered their wings twice as was always done before conversing. A rookie mistake, the elders later said. It was the duty of a youngling to bow his head before addressing those who were born before him. I made many friends after mastering this silly ritual. The hierarchy bothered me more than it did the others. I could never quite grasp the concepts the elders taught me. Respect? The younglings were the future – if anything, the elders would logically be the inferior species. Honesty? The creatures who waited until the hunters brought back the harvest were ridiculous fools. Us, the select few, knew the hunters only brought back ten percent of their winnings. They consumed the rest with brutal lavishness on their measured, hearty way home. Stealing from the hunters and poisoning their hearts with misery satisfied me more than the food did. The elders were an abomination and a danger to the world as it existed. Only a swift, competent termination would be the solution.
I had persuaded even the uns, the youngest of the young, about the urgency of our task. The elders were archaic and incredibly restrictive in their thinking. They had taught us the mastery of warfare but had ignored the advancement of strategy. They had painted our wings with wax in order to armor our flight, but were strangers to the deviousness of evolution and sharper teeth. They had helped the dragonflies build their nests on all the trees along the border but did not foresee the dragonflies’ jealousy of our hunting bounty and their consistent hatred of our kind. The elders were loving but the elders were weak. It would require a monster to annihilate the very creatures that embraced him for who he was and taught him all he knew. The younglings and the uns would be the easiest to manipulate. I was a monster. I was their God.
We used the blackness of the night. Lava infused wax would do fine to protect the fragile bodies of my soldiers. I had seduced them into blood-lust and all that mattered now was their skill. The elders were our enemies and we would strike them where it hurt the most – the depravity of love and trust. It would be easier than I initially expected. Most of the elders were murdered in the split seconds between their delicate dreams and forced awakening. The ones who resisted did not last long. The haunting shockwaves of betrayed sight obliterated the elders’ souls before the younglings even commenced sinking their canines into poignant hearts.
……………………………………….
The air was stale but if it has been any sweeter, I wouldn’t have noticed. The riches that I had gathered were of no use to me in my decrepit state. After the massacre in the sacred forests, I had assumed power and authority over all of wingdom. None of the elders were spared and we became a younger, more radical nation. I kept some of the younglings close to my side but I began losing my trust in everybody else. They were all after my power anyway, waiting to usurp me of my rule. Soon, I began to order mass executions. The dragonflies helped cremate the dead as there was not enough land to bury every traitor. We were near the end of our civilization but none of my appointed queens would bear me any offspring. Everything was wrong and the neighbors were closing in with their armies. Passionately furious, I would order the slaying of every one of my hundred wives. The elders had diplomatic relations with the leader in every landmass surrounding our borders but because the elders were all dead, the murderous wretches would soon recognize conquest of the lands they had earlier promised to never attack. We were at world’s end and I could not bring myself to care.
The darkness had taken over me. I was powerless under its spell and it has caused me inflict pain and sadness among the many. I yearned to feel the strings again, sheltering my body and strengthening my mind. Wishful thinking though it was, bring a smile to my face it did. I had lost most of my strength and regretting my past did not renew a single aching muscle. I sensed movement. The dragonflies were here. I was to be put to death today and the final chapter of our existence would turn its final page. They led me to a pit bathed in bright, white light.
……………………………………….
The truth was nauseous in its blinding insanity. I was a subject under common surveillance ever since my first awakening. Created to serve a single purpose; a living, breathing time bomb. The answer to all the jealousy the neighbors had to endure as the elders built a prosperous nation. I had lived all my life in a fish bowl. Scrutinized daily by the brightest minds the neighbors could gather. The stench I endured during the first few days of my birth should have given me my earliest clue; there had to be something wrong with a disturbed awakening. My creators had probably sensed my inquisitive disbelief. That’s where the strings would come in. They soothed my body and therefore enchanted my mind. I would soon be far removed from acknowledging my dubious existence and questioning the forgery of my environment. The elders in my world were genetically altered dragonflies, serving only to temporarily substitute for the real elders in the outside world.
I am inside her. A pungent smell overwhelms me but oddly, it does not irritate. The smell wakes me up when my mind flutters into existence, as it does every day now. I cannot see and I cannot hear. The odor is the only feeling that keeps me company. I do not know what my purpose is just yet. That is probably because I cannot move. Discoveries are only revealed when one makes an effort to seek it. I have not had that privilege just yet.
My surroundings have been thawing away minute by minute. I remember the moment I first realized existence. I was bound so tight I found it difficult to breathe. After my second awakening however, the strings that had bound me tight released some of their mighty grip. I spent days interpreting their graciousness. Was it out of pity? Were they only teasing my fragile mind, soon to shatter my false hopes of freedom and grip me tighter than ever before? Before long, I realized that the strings themselves had no power of their own. They were being guided by a higher power. A power unseen but a power that reeked of love.
I can feel the breeze now and the unnourished air has an aroma that is so refreshing. A few of the strings clutch on for their own individual last gasps. They must know by now that they have served their purpose and it’s time for me to move on. Miss me the strings shall, until another spirit discovers existence. Some of the strings will die, scorched by the searing heat of the sun. Most will return back into their shell and remain observant. To find and envelope a new lost soul, a naked spirit released from the gates of heaven or shunned from the cages of hell. I feel exhilarated at my proximity to freedom. However, no longer will I be protected. The strings imprisoned me, guided by the astuteness of my mother. The strings also cosseted me, blanketing me from the sun and feeding me water and food through their own pores. Selfless, they were thus deliberately ignorant of their pain and sacrifice. The last of the strings slithered away from their futile clinging. I am but a child, tip-toeing my way into the unknown.
……………………………………….
The shadows always seem to haunt me. I have tried walking in the dark to see if the shadows vanish upon realizing the enormity of black. Even the almighty sun cowers at her mere appearance, hiding behind the white, sacred light of the moon. Never peeking out until the dark says goodbye to the world after her mandatory twelve hours have passed. She was the gatekeeper to the haunting doors of hell and to displease the dark would be unwise indeed. Drift away into avoidable thoughts, I must not.
The wings have begun to weigh me down as I run through numerous days of awakening. Days become nights, nights become days, and the only constant is the repeated awakening from my dreams. Daily. Unvarying. Unavoidable. I do not know why my wings have started to feel heavier but it must be because the corruption was not sudden. Those nasty devils found their malignant way home inch by bitter inch, like nails that slowly pummel their way through a freshly painted wall. I wish I had fond memories of the innocence of the years that have gone by. Instead, all that my wings bear are guilt. Void of peace. Hungry for salvation.
As a youngling, I tried to spark conversation at the meeting grounds. The elders told me to. The grounds were a foreboding place at first. None of the other creatures fluttered their wings twice as was always done before conversing. A rookie mistake, the elders later said. It was the duty of a youngling to bow his head before addressing those who were born before him. I made many friends after mastering this silly ritual. The hierarchy bothered me more than it did the others. I could never quite grasp the concepts the elders taught me. Respect? The younglings were the future – if anything, the elders would logically be the inferior species. Honesty? The creatures who waited until the hunters brought back the harvest were ridiculous fools. Us, the select few, knew the hunters only brought back ten percent of their winnings. They consumed the rest with brutal lavishness on their measured, hearty way home. Stealing from the hunters and poisoning their hearts with misery satisfied me more than the food did. The elders were an abomination and a danger to the world as it existed. Only a swift, competent termination would be the solution.
I had persuaded even the uns, the youngest of the young, about the urgency of our task. The elders were archaic and incredibly restrictive in their thinking. They had taught us the mastery of warfare but had ignored the advancement of strategy. They had painted our wings with wax in order to armor our flight, but were strangers to the deviousness of evolution and sharper teeth. They had helped the dragonflies build their nests on all the trees along the border but did not foresee the dragonflies’ jealousy of our hunting bounty and their consistent hatred of our kind. The elders were loving but the elders were weak. It would require a monster to annihilate the very creatures that embraced him for who he was and taught him all he knew. The younglings and the uns would be the easiest to manipulate. I was a monster. I was their God.
We used the blackness of the night. Lava infused wax would do fine to protect the fragile bodies of my soldiers. I had seduced them into blood-lust and all that mattered now was their skill. The elders were our enemies and we would strike them where it hurt the most – the depravity of love and trust. It would be easier than I initially expected. Most of the elders were murdered in the split seconds between their delicate dreams and forced awakening. The ones who resisted did not last long. The haunting shockwaves of betrayed sight obliterated the elders’ souls before the younglings even commenced sinking their canines into poignant hearts.
……………………………………….
The air was stale but if it has been any sweeter, I wouldn’t have noticed. The riches that I had gathered were of no use to me in my decrepit state. After the massacre in the sacred forests, I had assumed power and authority over all of wingdom. None of the elders were spared and we became a younger, more radical nation. I kept some of the younglings close to my side but I began losing my trust in everybody else. They were all after my power anyway, waiting to usurp me of my rule. Soon, I began to order mass executions. The dragonflies helped cremate the dead as there was not enough land to bury every traitor. We were near the end of our civilization but none of my appointed queens would bear me any offspring. Everything was wrong and the neighbors were closing in with their armies. Passionately furious, I would order the slaying of every one of my hundred wives. The elders had diplomatic relations with the leader in every landmass surrounding our borders but because the elders were all dead, the murderous wretches would soon recognize conquest of the lands they had earlier promised to never attack. We were at world’s end and I could not bring myself to care.
The darkness had taken over me. I was powerless under its spell and it has caused me inflict pain and sadness among the many. I yearned to feel the strings again, sheltering my body and strengthening my mind. Wishful thinking though it was, bring a smile to my face it did. I had lost most of my strength and regretting my past did not renew a single aching muscle. I sensed movement. The dragonflies were here. I was to be put to death today and the final chapter of our existence would turn its final page. They led me to a pit bathed in bright, white light.
……………………………………….
The truth was nauseous in its blinding insanity. I was a subject under common surveillance ever since my first awakening. Created to serve a single purpose; a living, breathing time bomb. The answer to all the jealousy the neighbors had to endure as the elders built a prosperous nation. I had lived all my life in a fish bowl. Scrutinized daily by the brightest minds the neighbors could gather. The stench I endured during the first few days of my birth should have given me my earliest clue; there had to be something wrong with a disturbed awakening. My creators had probably sensed my inquisitive disbelief. That’s where the strings would come in. They soothed my body and therefore enchanted my mind. I would soon be far removed from acknowledging my dubious existence and questioning the forgery of my environment. The elders in my world were genetically altered dragonflies, serving only to temporarily substitute for the real elders in the outside world.
Every creature I had encountered was an individual unit of a massive lie; serving only to act as fearless characters in an elaborate screenplay. The crime I thought I had committed had not actually happened. My actions within the fish bowl and detailed analyses of my mental patterns had unlocked a deadly secret. I had invariably planned every single minute detail of the extermination of my species, and my every move was analyzed with intricate detail. The dragonflies and the other neighbors now knew how best to kill the elders. Strategy that had evaded them all along was now handed to them on a silver platter. All they needed to do was to understand our kind. I was created to give them that kryptonite. Soon armies of my duplicates would be built and sent to the necessary areas that would have to be conquered; the elders would be betrayed by their own.
I had served my purpose. Death was near and there was nothing I could do to warn my brothers of their impending doom. The dragonflies thanked me for my service as if it was my choosing. I had lived a malevolent life and the revelation that it was all an elaborately constructed hoax did nothing to soothe my sorrow. The strings closed in as they said they would. No longer were they silky in touch and pleasant in smell. Their malignant, gnarled edges tore open my skin and their corrugated edges served to bleed out every last sliver of my life. For the second time in my existence, the pungent smell enveloped me. I have failed you, my brothers.
Soaring higher than before,
I had served my purpose. Death was near and there was nothing I could do to warn my brothers of their impending doom. The dragonflies thanked me for my service as if it was my choosing. I had lived a malevolent life and the revelation that it was all an elaborately constructed hoax did nothing to soothe my sorrow. The strings closed in as they said they would. No longer were they silky in touch and pleasant in smell. Their malignant, gnarled edges tore open my skin and their corrugated edges served to bleed out every last sliver of my life. For the second time in my existence, the pungent smell enveloped me. I have failed you, my brothers.
Soaring higher than before,
wings full tilt, lofted
More esoteric form of self born,
alchemy of human metamorphosis resounds
©Govind Mohan – http://govindmika.blogspot.com. All rights reserved.
©Govind Mohan – http://govindmika.blogspot.com. All rights reserved.
