Misery

In the South Tower down a porcelain hall, there's a broken mirror on a granite wall, this ancient mirror goes by the name of Misery. This shattered glass reflects my tattered robes, this porcelain hall reflects the fragile nature of my past. Oh how long this pain may last and cage me in my misery. I slowly creep down the porcelain halls, afraid to touch the fragile walls, if they shall break then I may fall, descending down infinity.

Oh how have I wandered back to a time that is but only dust, limping around as if I have splinters in my feet. I dread tomorrow because I'll brood upon what was, just as I always do. Years go by and my face grows hollow, all because I've traveled time. I have surrendered my life-force to what is simply dust, and I say to myself that it’s true, I must. A gust of wind flows down the dunes and whisps me away, for I am no longer strong enough to endure. I can take nothing more.

I crawl through my days in an absent haze, barely hearing what the others say. What they do not know is I’m not even there. I am lost elsewhere. Specifically I am sitting in a dusty old chair, but too frail to even rock. Nestled in the horrific chambers of the South Tower, watching memories like a fellow would watch his favorite play. I revel in suspense, comfortable in my suffering because I have known him for so long. I tell myself “You must stay in your chair. How could you leave the South Tower? This is exactly where you deserve to be; dying in the pits of your despair.” This voice is the warden whom keeps me prisoner in the dreadful Tower, desperately clawing to drain all my power. If I could be free for just an hour I would see outside of my misery.

I am trembling in my chair when I hear a gull. I groan in protest of his company, but the gull only coo’s louder. Again I groan, and I muster up the energy to turn to the window. “Why gull, I am hurt. What could you need? Couldn’t you visit someone who is freed?” The gull parts his beak in a smile. “What fun would that be, for a man who is free, need not be warned of the showers.” “Showers?” I ask, raising a brow. “Why yes, showers. Showers will come bearing lightning so run, they're coming to burn up your towers.” I try to speak but I can't, I am weak. I clutch my chest in horror. What will I do with nothing to brood, I cannot make home in the ruins. The gull flies away, and again I try to scream, barely letting out a little whimper. I cry and I shake, for I’m scared of the lake that will pour out my face when I’m faced with my fate. When my tower’s made rubble and they open the gates, I will pour out a lake and fill the space that once was home to my misery.

My spirals are interrupted by a deafening clap. I fall from my chair and down through the air, followed by all of my rubble. My heart wrenches and I cry as I plummet and die, descending down from my summit. Oh how I have wondered and thought of the day when I’d fall to the clay and meet my bleak fate. Now here I am alone in the sand, faced with the depths of my misery. I glare at the sky and let out a shrill cry “Why oh why, am I forced to face the treacherous pits of this misery?” I writhe in shame and I lie down in pain till I’m met with a flame that can burn in the rain. I raise my head from earth’s muddy floor, praying this flame just might know of a door; a door that could lead to epiphany. I stand on my heels and fight through the winds to ask this dear flame of a door. “Flame!” I cry. “I don’t mean to pry, but I’m broken and truly need more.” The heavy rains pour and flame flows north. I follow, so thimble and weak. I am led to a creek at the top of a peak, and flame looks down and he speaks. “Behold is the door that you seek, nestled in the mouth of the holiest creek.” My eyes light up and I run forth. Straight through the door, I swirl through time and pray for Lord to take me out of this misery.

I land on my bum and I open my eyes and they burn from the light of the sun. This light burns so bright and it lights up the night and the truth of the past; not to run. Appalled, I cry for a new type of pain comes in the form of fear. Behold my dear, there’s no need to fear. The relief that you seek is near. Now I shed a tear and peer into the sky lost, for I don’t know these lands. I steady my hands and I let out a sigh, accepting with grace that I am. Thanks to the flame I have steadied my aim and now I can balance my energies. Now I have heard the beautiful words, ‘Forward means out of my misery.’