There is nothing but rubble here. These stones were once much bragged about architectural symphonies. Ah! Something glitters, it dazes me; what is it? A shard, a broken piece of the mirror she used to preen herself in front of. What is that blue? Is it a reflection of your periwinkle eyes? Reflection! you remain, but where is she? What is that piece of wood? Was it not our sideboard which held many a savory she prepared, seasoned with love and care? The life has gone out of them, these bits of material wealth. She was the life; no they were the life. They breathed life into all that was around them; all that we fancied to be ours. Where did they go?
I try to call out their names, my lips refuse to move. I try to move my arm, the pain blinds me; I smell blood, my eyesight fades. I should see them, I should hold them close to me… ‘Get up!’ I chide myself. With excruciating pain in every sinew in my corporal self I manage to get up. Where are you my dear, dearest? I search for you amongst these bricks, stones, dust; all that remains of the great civilization. Cry out to me, I will pull you out of this mess. Am I deaf ? This silence is deafening in its eloquent clamor. And them, those lovely little cherubs, ours; where are they? Come! come rushing into my arms. They can’t be gone or are they?
I am searching; searching among these lifeless, worthless pieces of junk for you, for my vision, my voice, my life, myself… I want to call out, I want to scream at the top of my voice, screech out their names so that they will come running. My mouth is dry and parched, I am unable to make a sound. Have you taken my voice with you wherever you have gone? Who is pulling me down? Can’t you see I am searching for all that was mine. You should understand how… precious… li’l… mine… life… gg… g..go…
I wake up; no! I should not have slept! Things have changed, days have gone by or even years. Still no sight of them; I am lost, I am dead. One by one the rubbish clears itself. I see boulders being lifted, slowly, with painstaking effort. The rubble is vanishing before my eyes, yet the dust remains. My eyes fill up; it is the dust, yes, it really is. Pang? Why does my heart yearn for that disorder? Those ruins, they did veil my grief. I sought solace in that disorder. They justified my wails. Four walls around me, I feel claustrophobic. Break them down once more! Is that, could that possibly be, footsteps? Grey walls, you do not seem to be as suffocating as you once were. Somewhere I hear laughter ringing, I join in. No! I shouldn’t be laughing. I do not deserve joy in a world that is no longer yours. Bring back that rubble, let me cry! Dolor, make me your child!
I hear voices; concerned voices that inquire about my well being. Go away! I don’t need you. Yes, I do. NO! I DON’T! My eyes have feasted on those dilapidated scenery long enough. They have had their fill. Don’t add baggage to an already leaden heart, I might bend; no, I am sure, I will stoop and fall. Who will embark on a journey that knows not a destination? There comes a time when the boots will have to step off that muddy road. The doors of my vehicle will open to let them, my fellow passengers, out and that toxic silence will set in once more to plague me with its distinct murmurings. Better, I travel alone along this path that many before me have cleared and made less savage. I don’t have that hand to hold, I yearn for a shoulder to weep on. Deny that luxury, stain not him who gives you company.
Indulgence, you have reaped your reward. Here you stand again tasting loss in the dust. Boulders, rubble, twisted iron rods, deja vu. Pain? In plenty. Been bathing in blood, it ceases to horrify. Two roads before me: one a similar path that brings me back home, the other a complex jungle, sharp thorns and jagged rocks it is sure to hurt. Familiar dilemma? The poet preaches one way, I know the other way well. See the leaves in your branch wither away or let all your sight be a blur. Depressing! I choose to bury myself in this chaos I’ve created for myself. Amongst that rubble, those material remains, I have lost my heart. To seek that bloody vital from amongst this confusion, I have not strength; giving up, I choose to lie in this graveyard where all I hold dear lies. Oblivion! take me as yours, as you have taken mine to be.
Wait! what is that green I see yonder? Sapling! We planted you here, did we not? I see my cherubs, their eyes wide, watching her as she tenderly placed you in earth’s warm womb. I still see her pale, slender fingers patting the mud around you, making sure you were safe and that you would grow. White, dark brown, green. Watered you each day, didn’t we? With love. My little ones; crooned they to you, did they not? Mentoring the foliage, that looked ready to wilt and droop any moment, to look up and face the sun. You! you green plant, you are all that remains of them, of us. I live through you. You are for my sight alone, all your hues are mine, exclusively mine, to behold. Sustain me in your evergreen growth…
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