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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "There was a Great Silence" There was a great silence in that place, a kind of peace, you sensed them, the unseen removed, all around you, yet, all the cacophony in the noise from that Other place the unexpected turmoil those Others brought into the ruination of an external blooming life, was eventually closed off, shut out. one cannot say it was unplanned, one remembers the patronising lessons, for hadn’t those do-gooding sermoning priests, from their lofty pulpits, perceived as the better of us, knowledgeably and generously shared, that that invisible phantom Being, royally had a plan for everyone, you just need to pray more they said, believe, and what you ask for - you shall veritably and generously receive, have faith they said, and of course the age-old adage, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger; prayers? the response? phantom? there was a great silence from that place. I closed my eyes, and hung there, I shut out the noise, while around me the fires of Hades burnt down the church I had built with my own mind, with all my heart, as armour, while they stomped around like marauding crusaders executing and eviscerating the heads off all my dreams, intervening something they had absolutely no knowledge of, nor experience of - so, I closed my eyes, shut out all their noise, and journeyed swiftly to that dark quiet place; I was quite taken aback...in the immersion - to observe, that while externally the dark blanketed me all around, the colour black, in that distant, disassociated place had departed and taken on within, the colour of Love, I wouldn't go so far as to say the colour of "forgiveness"... that, I was certain, was a different shade, not yet arrived to the party, and all said and done, one considered forgiveness was not welcomed with open arms; the music that remained in my open unarmoured heart, that no one but myself could hear, grew louder, and a life thought burnt to cinders, charred to ash, took on a phoenix hue, a jungle grew inside that place, its overgrowth fed the unchained Zoo of stories that lived and thrived there, in that place one could not blame me then, now strongly ensconced inside that place, for never once, in the pulchitrude of what I viewed as heaven in that place, never once, ever, wanting to return, to their world Candide Diderot. ‘24
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