A mysterious figure, wandering about from place to place. His actions, intentions and identity seem a complete mystery at times, perhaps even to himself...
Huh, where am I? My head's swimming...I think I'll just lie here for a while.
There was once a man, born of flame In a distant land worlds apart. Who was wise, strong, and mighty But most importantly, kind of heart. But once, he let his mighty temper Get up and over his head. And away, away he was cast Never to go back again...
What was that? Sometimes these things just spring out from my head. That one seemed...particularly poignant. I think I'll record it here then.
Far, far, did he roam, Drifting an eternal night. Till there was none left of the proud warrior, No more soul, heart, or fight. His identity forgotten, his might lost forever, An empty shell remained. Yet might the shell hide deeper secrets Than any anyone would dare to claim?
Today, digging into the depths of the forgotten fountain, I came across a small pool of the purest water I have seen so far. At last, I found it! This simple ecstasy jolted another strange verse into my awareness:
Lost, lost, so far in the void That he could see naught, try as he might
Of home, country, or soul 'Cept the vestiges of the Night. Eventually he passed out, formless As he came to be. For the abyss stripped all awareness Of his painful plight.
So it was, that he awoke A completely new entity. Born into this world. Absolutely free.
My head hurts again. Visions of strange new planes...a fight, a struggle, a chant, a ritual. Reflections upon reality. Confusing. What is real anymore? How does one tell?
Everything seems so fleeting and unreal. Here today, gone tomorrow...
Everything seems so conditional: based on this, I get that. Based on that, I get this. And then this-and-that fades away, too, and none of that matters. What never goes away? What is never based on anything else?
The emptiness rings like a hollow drum. My head splits into two. As I scream and cry and thrash about where no one can see, a lone voice rings throughout the world. But then it is no voice, and neither does it say anything. When I come to I decide: that is where I must go.
All things come from something, bring up another thing, and then go away
What never comes, and never goes?
Nothing. No-thing.
And that is what I must find.
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