Friday, October 16, 2015

Styx part 2



               For centuries I was called Charon the Boatman who would bring you to the far shore for a Danake.  It was a life of wonder to hear the new souls terrified by the lamentations of those who had crossed before, they would often dip their fingers in the river taken to wonder by the souls passing beneath the still waters.  I would wonder why there was no fear only curiosity.  Once I asked a man who sat quietly letting his fingers trail small swirls as if he were fishing for the lost souls, he looked at me upon my question as if I were a school child.  "I have no fear because I know the life I have lived.  I am a confident man.  These visions hold no fear for a good person."  With that answer I never asked again this question.  I could understand the curiosity of a new world.  Fear was often forgotten over a healthy source of adventure.  Even those souls who were damned knew themselves and were not surprised or frightened of what they were witnessing.

                The only time I would ever see fear or astonishment on the face of one I was ferrying would be if they were a royal or noble or a religious figure.  They would always amuse me with their shock.  I would often wonder if the priests had ever listened to one note of advice they had given during their tenure in the world above.  In life they lived lavish, but here they live in eternal regret, voices echoing of the cold stone walls of the cavern that Styx runs through.  The longer I have done this the less surprised I would be by the astonishment of these who would lord over others.  When they come here there are no servants or slaves to lord over, there is nothing but their own hearts heavy with sin to create endless torment until they are reborn.

                Rebirth is real, I promise you not only pay for your sins in death but you will also pay for them in the next life.  As a noted scientist of yours said. "Energy can neither be created nor destroyed."  I thought with this singular line of truth even the most hardened skeptic would understand that death is not the finality you perceive it to be.  I found it disheartening to see how advanced your technology has become but how far your intellect and wonder has receded.  Why do you not still look to the sky with wonder?  Why are you not fascinated with the constant cycle of death and rebirth playing out like a drama on a stage before your very eyes, and never acknowledge that even you are part of this cycle.  I think one sleeps easier if they believe their action incur no debt for them.  Debt is incurred by all even those that see themselves as above the rest.  Your debt is incurred more than those you feign pity on.  You will see me on your last day, at your last moment to collect on your debt.  You have all and share none, and you believe you can escape me?  I laugh.

                I am Death, you cannot negotiate with me.  I will not take pity on you, I will only bring to where you have sent yourself.  So stop being surprised by the state you enter upon your death, you are just reaping the seeds you have sown since birth.  It is not for me to understand you but for you to understand yourself.

                But I must confess my own lamentation.  In the current century I have seen more lost people cross the river than all who have come before you.  My dead heart has begun to eat for you and I am ashamed to admit I care about what will become of you.  I can see your holy father, powerless to save you.  He often exclaims his dismay at having gifted to you free will, for what you have done with that power has been the decline of your species.  His entities or angels work in the shadows to free you but the evil in your hearts persists and it has come to overtake you.  You may feel as though you are separate from one another but you are not.  You are a singular entity of many parts, but of one whole.  I implore you what you do to yourself and your own heart you do to all those who have life.  The realm of the dead is overflowing with the cries of the forlorn.  There is no song of joy in the far hills any longer.  The angels have stopped singing and the gods have stopped watching.  The dark one has borne his victory flag and you are a species lost in his embrace.  Again I implore you pull back before it is too late.

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