Unconditional quietness numbed me into a slumber that made me regret all my desires and reminded me of my foolishness. I might have forgotten who I was because of a multitude of versions of myself inhabiting my soul.
I couldn’t clearly see what awaited me, since my fate was hidden beyond a gloomy swamp of illusions and deceptions. A forest of mangroves was discouraging me from advancing. Hence, I was ensnared by their leafy claws.
I could no longer tell imagination from reality, so profuse were the visions that enthralled me. I felt no fear or panic, nevertheless, I could hear a lullaby of illusions pulling at my heart with silken hooks.
That hypnotic stillness was concealing my undoing. A dreadful oblivion was awaiting me as I became its adored prey. I had no choice but to become a tiny and fragile creature surrounded by withered flowers and relics of beauty. And so I was cast away and I vanished in dismay.
All my lost dreams and eagerly guarded treasures resurfaced in the marsh of desolation and turmoil. I had reached the edges of the realm of oblivion.
So forsaken was I in the chasms of my daydream that I had forgotten the existence of the stars on a majestic winter night. Truly, I had sought too long the sense of my existence, and I had never found it.
In my unconditional quietness, I had found chaos and tragedy. There wasn’t even a fragment of hope that I would be redeemed by my destiny. I had been cast away by the luminaries that glimmered in all their magnificence.
The moon hid behind gloomy clouds so thick that it was impossible to ignore their yearning for spells and magical hexes. The sky’s immense shadows touched my swamp, melting in it like ethereal soap bubbles.
Elisabetta Esthe