I am Chyme, an inter dimensional monk. A servant of the seekers of love and truth. There is, I let it be known, a place between places. A dimension between the eternal multitude of dimensions. A place so named, the planes of Desolation. A dry and barren place, where solace and serenity does not exist. Where love in its purest form is devoured by creatures formed from the vilest essence of evil and malignitude. These creatures once dwelt with the ineffable light, and drank freely the rivers of holiness, peace and gentility. But as you know, the Great Celestial War still rages and they made their fateful and irrevocable choice by forsaking the fair realms of sublime love! Diving headlong into the unfathomable abyss of chaos, they wallowed in hatred, deceit, depravity and things even now unknown and forbidden to divulge. Now they await judgement. Banished and chained they lay in wait for the hearts of those deceived. For the Souls of fools and ignorant wanderers, who stray into this, the desert of Desolation and yes, many there are who do so. Am I not one? I myself was likewise enticed into this fearful realm. I drank the debauched river and ate of the fruit forbidden. The Harpy bound my sensitive eyes with silken scarves and told me it was but a joyful game. But when I desired to leave, my way was lost and I could not remove the bonds she had tied about my heart. Love and peace and hope had gone and when I asked for them, I was given bitter anguish to drink and with nothing but lies to eat, my heart began to petrify......feeling nothing! The creatures so easily then, made their nest from loveless hearts to lay their dark and malignant eggs. I languished there chained to my distress and the voices of these Harpies mocked me and told me, "lay still and die." I took the knife and placed it at my breast and cried aloud, "What care I for life when life itself has deserted and forsaken me"?
"Stay your hand, for you are long time dead!"
A voice so insistent I knew I imagined it not. like a trumpet sounding amidst the heat of battle. I listened intently, to be certain of its reality. Again the trumpet voice more gentle spoke. "Do you think the eager dagger would offer you a means of escape from this infernal desert? Consider you not, that it may usher you towards a far worse and more terrible habitation?"
The voice was strange and not native to this place. It was calm and balanced. "Sir," I said, "I see you not, yet I feel we have met before?"
The voice answered, "Long time your eyes are strong bound so you see only the things that creep into the darkness of your imagination. Even now, I have removed some wax from your ears, else you could not hear me."
"Indeed, you are familiar. Who are you?
The voice laughed. "Of course I am familiar. I am Life!"
"Life? Aah," said I, "I thought I knew you once, so very long ago. Why did you leave me?"
"Me? Leave you? Never! We are intrinsically bound until the final cut. A cut you were about to make."
"Then why?" I insisted, "do I feel empty and abandoned like all hope has drained from the cracks in my broken heart?"
Life paused, waiting for my wasted tears to fall upon the hungry desert sand. "Do you still not perceive that it was you who abandoned me?"
"How so Life? I welcome your warmth and vibrancy and even now your voice comforts me."
"My voice is a comfort to you now you are in chains.But when you were free, my peculiar voice became an embarrassment to you and so you disregarded my council."
"Oh Life," I pleaded. "When did I not heed your graceful words or listen to your tender voice?"
"When you failed to recognise me and grew wise from your own pride. My voice is oft quiet and still and uncompromising. Others claiming to be me, led you far from my pathways. They told you of easier ways with the promises of secret knowledge which is no knowledge. It is the knowledge of the enemy of Life.It is knowledge of.......Death!"
I protested, "But.....I was searching for you!"
The voice resonated like a fanfare of thunder.
"Did you think to find Me amidst lies? Or hatred? Or violence? Did you think that I, Life, could be injected into your soul or ingested into your consciousness by the mere concoctions of alchemist's who by nature are the enemies and destroyers of life? Are not these the seeds of the forbidden tree?" Did you really think this was freedom? Look at me! Behold me in all my glory. I AM LIFE. I orchestrate my stars into constellations directing their course. I am Life, gathering up into the palm of my hand all that was, is and ever shall be. Am I not named Truth? Or would you make Life a lie? Do I not command the elements to perform my bidding? I weigh laws upon the scales of my heart and it is I that establish eternity! If you deny this, then you deny Life itself. I am the voice that called you from the womb. I am Life and Truth. I say not one thing, then do another."
I pondered these words when suddenly a Harpy flew over head and she whispered to me. " You are imagining things Chyme. Life has no voice. Life is a nebulous force. An abstract."
I said immediately to the peculiar stranger who dared to call himself Life. "But you are not a person, you are just a force." I insisted.
The stranger was not angry at my doubting, but simply he asked,
"Life, that gave you eyes.....does he not see?
Life that gave you ears......does he not hear?
Life that gave you power of speech...... has he no voice?
Are you greater than Life?"
" Oh Life, I perceive that you make me answer my own questions. "
"Only if Truth is in you. It makes you free!"
"But Life", I said despairingly, I am not free."
"Then I ask you the most important question of all.................do you want to be?"
"Yes, indeed I do", I affirmed. "But how"?
The stranger held out His pierced and wounded hand,
"Follow me", He said, "I am the way, the truth and the Life"!
Mine are pyramids made from broken hearts........it's funny but we never consider the heart ache and pain of the thousands of slaves that built these historical monolithes.....we only marvel at the accomplishment of the engineers.
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~ Chyme12
If Death is so final, how come skulls are always grinning?
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Each day we will feature 5 deviations from the Literature categories in a News Article. In order to support the artists that we feature, we ask that you the news article as well as check out the individual pieces. We understand that each day you may not be able to check out each and every one of the pieces, everyone has their own things going on. We just ask that you make an attempt to help support the growing Literature community.
^Ikue has been a devious member of our community for almost 7 years and in this time he has proven to be nothing short of dedicated and devoted. Whilst volunteering his time over the last 22 months as a Gallery Moderator within the Community Relations Team, Chris has brought the Vector gallery and many vector artists directly into the spotlight. ^Ikue's commitment to the community is evident in everything he touches and you can always find him reaching out to others with an encouraging word. Chris is a natural leader with a vibrant and empathic personality, and is a role model for deviants everywhere. It's ev... Read More
Comments
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"A work of art which did not begin in emotion is not art." ~ Paul Cézanne
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" pain teaches to moan..."
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Van Dinter LLC
MUTLEY74JV@YAHOO.COM
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~ Chyme12
If Death is so final, how come skulls are always grinning?
And this work does have elements to it that makes me think of some of Dali's work.
I might add that you wrote some intriguing narrative in your description.
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Call Me COA:
Caffeinated
Obsessed
Art freak
If you liked the narrative here, then check out 'Return of the Ghost Fish'. You may like that also!
Thanks for your favorite and support!
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~ Chyme12
If Death is so final, how come skulls are always grinning?
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