The Messenger

My style of poetic prose... (July 18, 2008)

     This artificial sunlight drains me of my energy. I am confined to a cubicle of something less than consciousness here and I fear that its florescence will consume me. The only glympses of nature I am afforded are mere captured reflections flashing across this digital box before me. I stare at them longingly as would any caged animal wishing to escape. Midday is just past and I fight to endure my punishment, but my thoughts stray to the others...

 

     This is life to those lost souls. For them there is little else and doubtfully ever will be. I have lived. God, have I ever lived, and I know that so much more awaits me at the end of this wretched tunnel of shadow. Love and Light live in that lovely land of Long Ago and Ever More. They will greet me with open arms at the end of this journey and wave me off once more when it is time for my next mission to begin. There shall be color and sunlight, textures and aromas, senses as have never been perceived by the creatures that inhabit this cruel world of carbon and gray.

 

     They go home to their other digital boxes intentionally paralizing their bodies and minds imagining, most likely, that such a box is the Higher Friquency of Light. If only they could travel with a Messenger...