Jun 08
Lyra's picture

Of Clouds, Caves, And Eternal Voids

The world’s weights are finally bringing me down, as the actions of humans weaken me. My emotions and connections only add upon these weights, a self-destructive cycle in which I am stuck. To enjoy the world’s wonders are my only wish, but how can one enjoy the world if everyone is trying to hurt you in pursuit of their own pleasure. Why am I restricted to this small plot of land, while others are allowed to freely pass through the golden horizons of the world?
How could a soul so free be trapped by age, heritage, and the world as a whole? Why must humans act so selfishly, under the guise of love and emotion? My emotions hold me down, lead bricks weighing me down, bringing both my spirit and hopes with it. I once thought the sky was where everyone sat, the clouds being the springboard in which they propel themselves into the endless void. The deepest caves is where I now sit, looking at those who freely frolic in the clouds. I no longer believe that the clouds are the springboards, but those you surround yourself with are the only way to reach the endless void in which so many dream of.
The darkness of these deep down caves hides those who dwell within, however, leaving any and all who have fallen to believe they are alone. To feel helpless is truly the nature of being human, but to be betrayed and have every sickening emotion within you ignited, is one that can only be achieved from the interactions of other humans. Looking back up at the golden clouds, in which those who are ignorant, embracing, or avoiding the pain of life, I find myself taking on their pain. Like the river that washes away sin from those who wish to enter heaven, and becomes a frozen in which the sinners suffer, the emotion of those in the clouds causes suffering to those yet to fall, or have fallen.
I wish only for freedom from this cycle, to be liberated and to have the weights and chains placed upon me to be broken and cast aside. With souls lighter than a feather, the only thing holding the fallen to the ground are the weights created by others. Only by the hands of another, can one truly become stranded in the caves of darkness? Why must others control the fate of those around them? Especially those who resist not the chains in which others created, those who have the ability to empathize with those around them?
Do those who dwell in the clouds truly not see the pain they cause? Do they believe that when they cut themselves off, they are leaving no pain or weight, especially when a connection has become strong? Does everyone wear a mask, sirens of what others want to see, and draw those in who are foolhardy enough to trust the wolf in sheep’s clothing? Why does the pain in my heart spill forth, just as freely as the love I had given? Is it my fault, for giving my love so freely, or is it the fault of others for accepting something they had no care for?
The hands of the fallen shake, while those in the clouds sleep soundly with the knowledge of their misdeeds. My heart oozes at every puncture, poke, and prod and yet the care and love I once held for you stops me from giving you the same treatment. Am I really helping myself, or am I allowing for those around me to springboard into the void while I sit on the ground looking up? Do I not deserve the vast openness of such a place, as I do not fight for it? Must the only way to obtain that eternal and euphoric placement be to hurt all those who get in your way, even if they only get in the way out of love?

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About the Author: Lyra
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