A
typical man or woman upon death will feel as though they have been separated from
their body. They may have a strong
feeling of loss or in some cases freedom, again, depending on the state of mind
upon death. Many times they will be as a
third person observing the goings on in the environment around them, at this
point what humans refer to as physics have no meaning, the dead become fourth dimensional
beings with new knowledge of time, space and matter.
What
I see in my world is vastly different than what the dead see in my world, the
truly lost and truly damned are those that see what I see, all others are
spared. Upon the realization of your
death you will be brought to the bank of a river. If you have lived a just and true life, you
will see a bright sky, smell the sweet aroma of flowers and honey suckle around
you. The shore will be gentle, the water
cool and inviting. I will come to you in
a boat of oak and birch. My oars are of
the deepest ash. You seat a plush silk
cushion with an umbrella to cast a gentle shade upon your brow as I take you
along the slow moving river to your destination. You may see fairies of legend swirling around
you their wings glistening in the sun and droplets of water sparkling on their
nude flesh as they fly in and out of your line of sight. In the distance you may glimpse the mermaids
of myth that will beckon you to explore the deep with them, their breasts
heaving with strength just below the waters crest. This is a pleasant world, a world I have
taken so few to. This is the place I wish
all that ride my boat could see, perception is the reality of the universe and
a person’s mind can create wonder of paradise or horrors of hell.
If
you have lived a life of greed, violence, envy or hate… you will see my
world. This is a world of fear and
remorse. A realm where the souls call
out in the darkness begging for the release of death ignorant to their
demise. Upon their death they will fall
heavy to the shore of a stony river overgrown with thistle and weed,
there is
no sky here, no sunlight. There is a vast roof of a cave with sharp
stalactite’s
that hang overhead, sometimes in the distance you can hear them crash to
the
earth or water. Here the air is putrid
and sickly sweet as if something were rotting just upwind. The breeze
here is harsh and cold. Here is a place of misery. I come to you on a
boat of bone and skulls
hewn together with mud and reed. My oars
are of gnarled driftwood overgrown with algae.
My boat comes against the current of the river creating a sickly wash of
foam and insects which wash upon the shore at your feet biting a numbing
your
toes.
When
you board my ship you will sit upon the rib cages of murders and rapists, you
weight will cause the spirits that still inhabit these bones to moan with
fatigue and pain, there is no hope in this realm. I will bring you up the river against a
current of black water, frost and frigid air will emanate and the cries of the dammed
will beckon you. Look over the side of
the boat and you will see the lost and forlorn reaching for you from the black
depths, their souls casting an unearthly glow dispersed through the blackness.
You have created
this realm. Humanity has taken the
darkness of their hearts and poured it into the water of the Styx. Here there is no salvation, there is no
hope. You have created me as well. A Boatman to row you through these
waters. I used to have fear upon my
birth, but I have been blessed to become accustomed to this realm, though I hope
one day to see the paradise some speak of, I have become content with this
place.
I have never
become desensitized to those I have to bring here, their cries to god begging
for another chance, as if the creator would listen to their pleas in death. You did not listen to his pleas in life, in
your passing the creator has become deaf.
You had your chance to go to him yet you retreated from him, now you
must live with me in my realm a realm of despair.
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