A Cloister of Retreat or Hell ?
Sitting in my cloister buried deep in the caverns of our Universe hidden
from sun light and warmth. All life passing by in ignorance, as if I had ceased to exist and had no awareness of my presence.
Tis at this time to be my preference no one should pass close enough to sense my being. I turn my head to shield my eyes so
they may not see into my soul if they pass close by.
This
is a place of solitude, where my heart beats only once every hundred years barely sustaining life. Where memories linger,
my blood runs cold and I have no feeling in my fingertips. My skin has turned dark grey, looking into a pool of ice water
I do not recognise the figure reflected back at me. How could I have lost so much in the blink of an eye?
The fortunes of man are fickle; his delusions of himself are as transparent
as glass. When he stands before his creator he is reduced to a speck of dust. His stupidity astounds the Universe he dwells
in. At his final hour he turns to view himself in the Majestic Mirror of eternal life, raising his eyes and glancing up expecting
to see himself he is overwhelmed by all the magnificent glory reflecting from the mirror but he is not there.
Russ
