Ex Animo

Each night was eternal darkness. The moon had been ravaged and consumed by war and greed. What was left of the Earth, were mere fragments, bones covered in ash and darkness. Its surface was stained red with rivers of dry blood and covered in a mosaic with the impressions of Life.

A man sat silently and motionless in the Darkness with his eyes closed. His legs were crossed like a lotus flower and his hands were held together on his lap; he appeared calm, poised, un-afraid. For he knew it well and he did not fear those things that dwell within it. He was called a man of shadow and light because he had gained an understanding of duality, and the cold air to him was the same as the warmth of a fire. When he took in deep breathes, he consumed death and made life, his very touch had become sacred, he was divine.

Behind and above him, a young punic bush hid him from the world, giving him shelter and sustaining his corporal body. Around them, the wind howled and roared, carrying upon its back the darkness that had taken a hold of the world. It laughed at him and whispered secrets, trying to lead him astray. Attempting to push and seduce him so that he would fall slave to bestial desires.

When the man had sensed that his light was low and that his life was coming to an end he searched for a sacred place to prepare his soul for the change we call death. To calm his mind and become asunder.

He reminisced about the life he had lived and the hidden verities he had learned. His glory, his pain, his vanity, his suffering, his happiness, and bliss. He had traveled to many worlds and seen many things, thus his knowledge had become esoteric and forbidden. He had come to truly understand evil and good and surrendered a life of passion and desire so as to gain a higher level of existence. The one many seek but are not capable of holding on to. He was a servant of things beyond.

He could see and remember everything. From the very beginning to the end, because his one soul, was made of many. He had seen the world through a hundred eyes and he was covered with them. There were no longer any illusions that could deceive him and he saw all truths. Visible and invisible. He understood the reality and the reasons for how things worked.

When at last he hears his calling, with his eyes closed he declares out loud to the Universe and to Death that he is ready. He proclaims that there is peace at last. That the world we hated and despised has faded. The world we could not bear to look at is gone. He bows and kneels, drenched in joy for the things he has done. He is the last fragment of the past.

Slowly, as he begins to open his Eyes the sun too begins to rise, and it flows upon him like the water of a river filling the world. A final kiss, the Universe saying goodbye. By this time, the punic bush has become a tree of massive structure blooming to its greatest potential. Whose roots reach deep and whose seed bears the truth of divine knowledge. When He is dead she pulls his body down into her roots, consuming the body she once nurtured. Her branches reaching into the aether releasing his essence into the dark.