The Retrospection - A Childhood's End

This continuation of my previous post - ramblings of a dying man.

I am staring at my companion in the mirror, chanting hymns for thyself.

“WAIT!” came a sound from deep inside. I picked up the shard that shared the reminiscences of my life. This time the voyage was long and was far back in time.

Minutes slipped down in the hourglass as I waited for an arrival. There were auestions in my little mind which had no answers.

“When will daddy come?” I asked my mother.
“ Sleep Son,” she said.
“ Will he ever come?” I questioned.
“ He’s on vacation in heaven, Son. As soon as he’s done he’ll be back,” she calmed me down.

Every night I saw her weep, through those reflections from the windows for reasons too old for a child.

“ DING DONG!” the calling bell screamed as she went to open the main door.

Gusty winds swept across the room for a moment and there emerged a man who looked like my father or “was he a duplicate,” I thought. It was a saying told by my grandmother that raised that dilemma in me.

“ There are Seven Continents,
Seven Seas,
Seven Great Sages,
Seven Sins and
Seven men who look similar in this world.”

“ Yes! He must be one of those seven,” my mind assured.

He took her to the secret room. Curiosity was my master as I eavesdropped. The air sensed the abominable scenes inside but I didn’t. The argument developed into a fight, fight into screams, screams into a ricochet and ricochet into a silence that lasted for an eternity, just like a volcano that had just finished its violent eruption.

The sounds weren't from a place too far away, but
I stood like a deaf man who could hear, but couldn’t forbid the evil.
When this deaf man cried there was no one to say words that comforted his ears

The floor was filled with the flow of Carmine fluid
I stood like a blind man who could see, but couldn’t tame the devil.
When this blind man cried there was no one to wipe his tears.

Everyday I moved , cursing the wrath that God showed upon me.
I wrote my agonies on the walls, but they were masked by the darkness,
I wrote my agonies on the waters, but they were lampooned by the current.
The sun in me was dying,
The demons filling those voids,
The tenderness hardened
It was my Childhood’s end and so was my life’s.
The behemoth in me grew,
Influenced by corporeal preachings.

My life filled with nebulous images of its meaning taught me a valuable lesson at that time and I passed it on.
“This world was run by a fuel called “NEED”. Every human is connected to other because of NEED,” I preached as a friend of mine listened.
“ I need your services to be my partner and you need me for money,” I continued.
My friend’s face suggested the enigma that surrounded in his head. “What about Love?” he inquired just like I did to my mom.
“ It is a cunning way to express our need,” I retreated throwing a roughshod at his query.
Silence was his answer and so was mine.

The shard was resplendent again as I returned to the present day, now I hated myself, those mirrors never reflected my companion. The humane presence in me died when I was young. All these years of my voyage preaching the greatness of being materialistic had made my emotions numb.What remains is this body that’s left to be petrified under the ground. It is time I dig this shard hard into my heart slicing all the malice it had pumped throughout my life. I no longer want to sing this dirge as I had done it decades earlier.