A female is dancing. She dances showing what once was. She dances and dances and dances till all her energy has been exhausted. And when you think her desperate death dance is going to stop, she begins to go round and round. She turns and turns and turns, showing her agony in her face. And as she does this, her face and hands gently rise up in appeal. To whom? I wish I knew. They rise and finally she falls. Incapable of any further movement, she drops, lost in abysmal unconscious, dead to the world above and around that stands in mock dismay at a performance. That applauds a performance. That applauds what it perceives, to be a performance. A performance it is, a recital. A display, a show! Of a dying soul. Of a heart long dead. Of a being extinguishing. Of a thin wisp of white smoke that escapes out of that befallen being. Out of a being that once was. Now all that is left is a materially mortal remain only which the world has ever seen, or been able to see. Has at least that being that now lies dead to the applause ever seen anything more of itself than does its audience now? I wish there was some sort of affirmative, however miniscule. Alas. Mercy is not to be had. What is this? Tears? At a death dance? Whatever for? If nothing, you at least would’ve had enough sense to foresee this, I am hoping. You saw this. You predicted this. You knew it was due and you saw it coming. And yet, your all pervasive knowledge helped you not, in doing anything about it. You knew of its death. And you chose to be a spectator. So be it.
1 comment:
A "person" has so many facets, some seen, some unseen. Even though we all live together in this "beautiful" place, we can only perceive the things that we have experienced. The ones, very rare ones, have this ability to predict and actually see all the facets, even rare are the ones who actually do something to stop this death dance. So the tears are not unusual, they indicate that the death dance has at least been recognized, sympathy is surely less worse..
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