On his knees the warrior sat. His sword thrust halfway into the ground while he held onto it with both his hands and all his might. Shadowed by clouds of ash and surrounded by nothingness, the warrior had knelt here since forever but had never opened his eyes nor did he ever speak. He had remained unchanged, unmoved and would seemingly remain so, forever!
The sky, which had been witnessing this constant sight for eternity, could not bear it anymore. So it broke its silence and spoke…
Rise O kneeling warrior, you sufferer, you wanderer, open your eyes, you have suffered for all eternity. Open your eyes and rise. Rise child and hear me out for I have spoken and I shall speak to you with great wisdom… Every man whether rich or poor, master or servant, brave or coward, is a slave.
a slave to his heart.
a slave to his thoughts.
Rise you warrior! You thirsty warrior. You slitter of throats. You drinker of wine, blood and ether. You drank, you drank, YOU DRANK! No matter how much you drank, nothing quenched your thirst. Nothing ever will! But a sip of water brought to your lips by the beloved’s beautiful hands.
A wise man once said “Man is the cruelest animal to himself”.1 I say the same to you O sufferer. You are the cruelest animal to yourself and to others around you. Don’t be so cruel that you banish yourself from your own heart. Revisit your heart, where the beloved dwells.2 The beloved shall dwell there forever.
And hear me for I tell you…
A thousand knives are affixed in your back. You are marked by a million scars and an equal number of arrows in your chest. You fought with your enemies, you fought with yourself, and since then you have also tried to heal yourself. But no ether will ever heal you. No book will ever give you peace. You lost soul; only a tender touch by the beloved can heal you. So seek that tender touch you wanderer…
You have knelt here forever warrior. You are at war with time itself. You kneel with your eyes closed but still you never sleep. You have never slept in a million years. And you will never sleep but in your beloved’s soft and comfortable arms. That is the only place where a sufferer can “find” sleep. So find your sleep my child. Find it and you can rest your head and forget.
And I speak to you sufferer. Every man whether rich or poor, master or servant, brave or coward, needs a beloved.
Rise my child from this… Oblivion, Oblivion, Oblivion, OBLIHVIONH!!! But then the sky realized what a fool it had been, to have been screaming like that. Of course only one thing could have compelled the warrior to rise and that was his beloved’s sweet fragenance. And the sky smiled at its own foolishness for missing out on this fact and realized that sometimes the curtain of wisdom is so heavy that it overshadows the simplest of things. Hence one’s actions can easily contradict one’s words.
So having spoken to its heart’s fill, the sky fell silent and never spoke again for now it had nothing more to say.
The kneeling warrior however just knelt there, unmoved and unchanged like a stone statue.
For his beloved had died an eternity ago….
Notes
1. The wise man is Friedrich Nietzsche
2. Inspired by something similar in the writings of Søren Kierkegaard
1. The wise man is Friedrich Nietzsche
2. Inspired by something similar in the writings of Søren Kierkegaard
