Ruminations

I was told of a man who saught true peace.

He was very odd, and tried oh so many ways.

He tried moving away from the city, he tried not relying on anyone. He isolated himself...until he derived the solution of true peace: and such solution...

I took.

And thus, I sit here, atop...nothing. No sky, no ground, mere darkbring.

There is no seat, no lights, nothing.

I try to look around and see, to no avail.

After all, in this void, sight isn't real.

I try and feel, possibly look for a trail

But it was for naught, for 'twas not a big deal.

But soon, I even do not feel.

My own efforts rendered meaningless.

I try to smell, but there is nothing to smell. Nothing to even think about.

There even is not a way to hear.

I have no body, I am but a soul.

I've been stripped down to what a living being truly is.

Some people would want to seek it out, this...peace.

But that in and of itself, is sin; Sloth to be exact.

To want peace is righteous, but being nothingness is far from it.

This void which eats you, makes you a part of it, it isn't peace, nor is it any form of disturbance.

Its null. A complete, unadulterated "zero" of the human soul.

Those who seek this; here is a warning.

There is no warm embrace, akin to a mother comforting her child.

There is no comforting cold, like a winter night in a tropical area.

There is not even a single wind.

Not a single emotion to be felt.

Not a single tingle to be sensed.

Not a single melody to be heard.

Not a single fragrance to be smelt-

and most of all, not a single site to see;

It is all...nothing. It is a mere void.

Noting to do in it.

Your body stripped away from you, like you are truly naked.

...But something interrupts your lonely venture.

You feel a gaze; a gaze of disappointment.

Its origin unknown, its truth that you could have known.

It pierces you; a spear to your non-existant gut.

"You...you thought you had entered tranquility?"

"You merely ran. You ran from everything, Love, hate, family, relationships, possible debt, whatever."

"You ran, and you thought that a single rope was a good escape."

As I take in His gaze, I come to realize; there was always a way.

There was always a light at the end of the tunnel. There was always a prayer that had been answered.

If only...

If only I hadn't given up...

I heard Ibn-e-Sina had talked about a theory;

a theory which stated the cruel, numbness of feeling that I was feeling, that lack of...anything...was the soul in its true form.

He said it was the state of the soul when God first made the souls of someone...but why can't it be even after death?

A state, the tranquility you longed for, a peace that overtakes all moments of peace...all was a lie.

Trying to cast your soul out to seek for such a thing is foolish.

To struggle is to make the end all the more peaceful.

But...He speaks once more;

"But you repented, didn't you?"

"You want redemption now, don't you?"

"You...shall struggle, as all of you eventually will."

He disappears, and a light takes place.

Sensations come back to me, a warm embrace I pull myself unto.

I can see the light; I can hear its radiance, I can tell what it is now-

The light expands, and so does the many sounds that come with it.

If He has given me yet another chance, I shall use it.

For struggle makes the end all the much better.