The open guitar case in front of me bares only a few coins and the people who walk on by just give polite glances as they continue forward. The once filled stadiums, money, and fame that I possessed are now a faint memory, but despite having lost them, I could care less. I continue to play and sing as I watch the onset of dusk, and nature begins to reveal its voice. Forever does it repeat itself, and forever more it weeps at the end of the day as it confronts another day, as it shuts its eyes and permits darkness. The world like all men bares two masks, one as a front for the delusional, another not clouded by the illusion of light portraying the truth of it all. Darkness is inevitable, and light impermanent, what purpose does seeking light make when the dark is always on the horizon! I play and watch the world begin to accept the darkness, and I continue to watch how nature becomes shrouded in somber blues and cries out the truth of impermanence. My music reflects the truth of this existence, the sad reality that happiness is an illusion and living with pain the future of all.
When the only light in the park I sit in is but the lamps that spot the man-made natural space, I take a breath and observe my audience. Stray animals rest around where I sit, the trees seem to lean in as if tilting an ear toward my instrument, and the very rocks appear speckled with dewy tears. It is this audience I live for now, as the emotions within my heart tear into me like Acteon’s dogs that ripped into the flesh of their innocent victim. How much longer can I endure this suffering? Even the Muses taunt me as each song I play reveals the will of Hades for me. Oh gods, if there are any that desire happiness for mortals, why not wipe all men off the earth as to permit the suffering and lack of genuine hope to end? My breath comes into my lungs in bursts, and only now I notice the moistness of my eyes, and my grip upon the neck of my instrument acts like a rope growing tighter on a falling corpse. I take a breath and gain composure, as I put together my things, collect my coins, and bow to my solemn audience.
Walking the streets amidst the twilight reveals a similar metamorphosis as it does in the park. Certain districts grow livelier, as some people try to squeeze out the small bits of pleasure they can in the short time they have, and others sleep off the drudgery of today and go into another day blessed with the same. My pace though quick grows to a halt as I see a couple under a lamp. They whisper to one another as they gaze into each other’s eyes. My face contorts into a half smile, while my insides are screaming. Slowly that bittersweet smile rests back into a familiar straight expression and the moans of the ghosts within cease. If they only knew of the vipers that surrounded them, then again let fools relish in the joy of the ignorant. Soon enough they will know pain, and in that moment, will they still be able to consider one another’s eyes and feel that same assurance? Then again, he will know my pain, as she will be the cause of it. The peaceful, and happy moments of today, only lead to the cold realizations of tomorrow. Even in this moment, he is alone. Even in the company of one he sees a future in, there is no future. Only the slipping minutes of the present will bring him the sole solace of life; an ending.
The couple, noticing me, leaves the light of the post and disappears into the night, and as they evaporate from my view the phantasm like memories begin to fade as well. Those memories that once brought joy start to claw at my mind like harpies raking their claws across the walls of the underworld returning from tormenting their last deserving fugitive. I close my eyes and let a stuttered breath leave my lungs, permitting my mind to return to a state of blankness. My resolve stayed, I continue my journey home. My thoughts now focused, the world blurs around me, and the music of the streets begins to penetrate my soul. I listen, and the muses provide the lyrics of my next song, as the notes solidify in my mind. The experience for some may be pleasant, but to me, it is harrowing, as the words penetrate the soul like daggers. My pace begins to grow faster to escape reality and the horrific dream forming in my head. My hand graces metal, and I return to the present, away from the muses, and the world. I stare at the door of my apartment, and my soul sinks. My heart races faster than it did before, and my body tenses. No place is safe, even the areas that you designate as your own, and separate from everything, in fact, these spaces can be worse than facing an enemy head-on.
The door opens, and the small space comes into view illuminated by street and moonlight. The furniture is sparse, but the items scattered amidst the room hold the source of my hesitation. Wedding invitations lie scattered on the floor, unsent and worthless. A wedding dress rests on the love seat, worn once, but not for its intended event. A single picture hangs in the room, of two smiling faces, back when a smile meant something more than a con. On the coffee table lies a folder with images only a doctor can interpret, but the lethal knowledge they contained killed me long ago. I imagine a voice, welcoming me home, but silence greets me as I place my guitar case next to the love seat. I go to the pantry and pick out two packets of ramen, and cook them. Putting the ramen in two bowls, I walk over to the love seat and sit next to the dress, and place the two bowls on the coffee table. After finishing my food, I stare at the fading steam of the other bowl of ramen until it dissipates. Picking up the dishes I place them in the sink and wash down the uneaten ramen down the drain. Finishing with the dishes, I assume my place again on the love seat and stare into the darkness. A flash of a passing car’s lights illuminates the dark patch I’ve been staring at, to reveal a rope looped over a rafter. I stare at the empty space of the noose’s circular void, as it again fades into darkness. Reflecting on the words of a drunken confidant, I wonder if he is right, am I just too much of a coward to join her? I stare at the dress, and then back into the chasm like darkness.
Time passes slowly, as my thoughts, and a that deathly specter serve their vigil. My mind breaks as the slurred words of that associate pass through my mind for the thousandth time, and my body moves to my guitar case. I open it and sling my guitar upon my back, and then passing by the kitchen I pick up a solitary stool. Placing it in a spot that it often time graced, I climb upon it and stare into the cave-like darkness of the opening formed by the rope of the noose. My breath is still, and I calmly push my head into the entrance of Hades and feel myself fall into darkness.
I continue to fall, and fall and the darkness I once knew seems like a faint memory as a void without any glimpse of light surrounds me. My very essence seems to fade as my body, and my awareness of anything slipped from my vision. My feeling of falling seemed to stop, and in curiosity of my possible new abode, I begin to wander and search for her. Each footfall, reveals no progress, in fact, if it weren’t for the feeling of moving my form in the darkness, it would seem like I wasn’t moving at all. I kept struggling as I seemed to float forward until I began to hear shrieking voices. As I drifted along, I saw a blue ball being grasped at by shadowy hands. Each hand tantalized by the orb would bat their fingers at it and droplets would depart from the orb. In the moment that a droplet would escape the globe a shriek of joy seemed to penetrate the abyss, but then these same droplets would return to the sphere, which would be accompanied by more screams. I saw one pitiful shadow that seemed to order the others forward at their sisyphean task. What Ixion like lust they had for the orb, as they continued in vain to influence or corrupt it. Thus, these shadows remained in their dread, as they continue in nothingness to do nothing as if robbed of will in their pursuit of causing some form of suffering upon the blue orb. I leave behind these tortured souls in this dark Tartarus, and eventually, again I wander in darkness. Time passes, irregularly here, as I have no idea if I have been floating for years, hours, or moments. I feel like if I float any longer, my very being will disintegrate into the void, leaving nothing. What a place this is, a place where one can only be tormented by the darkness of their own soul.
About ready to succumb to the void I hear a voice calling to me. I drift toward it to see a man robed in light sitting in a boat. I soon find myself walking on solid ground as I approach the bank of a river that seems to cut through the abyss. The water seemed to flow upward and to float due to the lack of anything else being visible. The man looked at me and said, “You don’t belong here, come aboard. We have a journey ahead of us.” “Who are you?” I ask. “I am an opener of gates, a helper of souls. I bare many names, but to you, call me Chiron, your ferryman. I will open the gate and guide you to the fields that hold beings dwelling in there just reward.” “Who are these shades?” I ask. “Those that failed the judgment of the first two judges, and refused the judgment of the third. They now wander this eternal darkness, and seek for others to suffer as they do,” he says, “come aboard I have many a journey to make.” I get on board, and the boat begins to ride the floating river. As we continued forward, the void begins to fade, and land starts to appear in front of us. A high cliff seems to separate this chasm from something more. A faint light enters my eyes, and they begin to burn as they adjust to the next stop in my search.
We arrive at the end of the river, and a strange building with three entrances opens its three jaws to permit us entry. Entering the building the ferryman mores his boat and walks to a locked gate. Grasping a key within his cloak of light he opens the gate and ushers me on through, he then again locks the gate and begins his journey back into the void. I now stand in a grey field, much like a field of grain illuminated by when the moon is at its smallest. As I walk through the field, I see many people, infinitely more than the shadows that dwelt in Tartarus. Many of these knelt and clutched at themselves, others gripped at their heads and gritted their teeth, all of these seemed to be suffering significant pain whether it was physical, mental, or spiritual I just can’t say. Some of these were approached by others that seemed to radiate light from themselves. A good portion of these listened and were consoled by these beings of light and something within them was also kindled as they got up and began to follow their consoler, others ignored the light bringers and remained huddled on the ground in their pain. Not seeing the one I seek, I decided to follow behind a light bringer and kindled one, to see where they were going, as my search for her amongst the grey fields was proving fruitless.
Following these people, I came to another river, where a bridge served as crossing. I searched for a guard, but there wasn’t one. Looking across the bridge I saw another field, this one differed from the last field as it was brimming with golden wheat, and campsites spotted the entire expanse. Crossing the bridge, I went to a campground to see many joyously conversing with one another, playing games, and preparing small meals of the endless wheat. I also saw a kindled one approach a campsite with his light bringing guide, and he was embraced by all those there. I wondered why so many dwelt in the grey field of Asphodel and weren’t here in Elysium. I guess, it is because they chose to continue in whatever suffering they carried with them to this life, and now pay for the price they reap upon themselves. I wander amidst the camps searching for her, my Euridice, but, again she isn’t in this land.
Determined in my quest to find her, I continue onward, until I see a massive mountainside, with a waterfall launching itself from an unseen cliff, creating another river in the field of Elysium. Walking next to this river, I found myself at the entrance of another building, appearing to be a courthouse of sorts. Entering in the courthouse, I see three thrones, with one being occupied by a man that seemed to look upon the fields and the people that dwelt there like a shepherd does a flock. His hands were covered in gloves of gold, his feet also shod in gold, one of his sides was covered in a strange cloak of gold, and he bore a shepherd’s crook also of pure gold. “Excuse me sir, but I am searching for someone,” I say, “can you help me.” His gaze fell on me, and he said, “you do not belong here, child. However, to answer your question, the one you seek isn’t here. She rests beyond here, the ferry just left, but if you wait, he will take you closer to her.” I smile and thank him, and sit in his room of judgment for a time until my wonder got the better of me. “Why are there three thrones, but one judge?” I ask. “There are three judges in this room,” the man says, “I am one, another stands in front of me, and the last within. These three determine where one’s eternal destiny lead. All must come here, and all must be judged.” After he made his statement, a silent hooded figure entered the room bearing a staff with two snakes curling around it, his voice but a whisper, called for me to follow.
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The footsteps of the stranger made no sound, and I could not see a face under his hood. I followed him to a boat in silence, and when we launched, I saw that instead of flowing to where I assumed was down river, the current was taking us toward the waterfall. As the boat slowly approached the waterfall, I saw that the water was flowing up the face of an enormous plateau. The boat tilted vertically, but I felt as if I was still secure in my seat and comfortable. We then progressed upward until the fields and darkness were not visible to us. After what seemed like hours, the boat lurched, and we were on a horizontal plain again only to see a giant ocean. “Where are we?” I asked, “are we still in the underworld?” “We are still in a river, and progressing toward one of the islands of the blessed,” whispered the hooded figure, “what is a destination to a God? Whether this is under or above, doesn’t matter, as much as that the place exists.” Being taken aback by the quietness, and the abruptness of his answer I waited to ask yet another question. “Who are you?” I ask. “I am a messenger of divinity, and a guide to mortals in hopes they arrive at the afterlife well,” he again whispers. We reach a dock at a large land expanse, and my curiosity again was peaked to know whether this really qualified as an island and what we drifted on was truly a river. Surprisingly as if sensing my thoughts, the hooded figure whispered, “everything compared to the grandness of divinity becomes diminished. An ocean becomes a pond, a continent an island.” He pulled back his hood to reveal no face underneath, and he gestured with the sleeves of his robe as if to wipe the sweat from his invisible face.
“Follow that star, and you will meet your next guide,” whispered the messenger, and he began his journey back down the ocean, pond, river, water mass. I looked up at the sky and saw a single star. Though this land was illuminated like the earth on the night of a full moon; I was still surprised at the level of obscurity. I began to walk in this land and saw many decently sized houses, and when I approached one, I saw a solitary soul sitting in front of it. “Where am I?” I ask the man in front of the house. He seemed to give off a light similar to a star in the night sky, and his face though happy, seemed to be missing something. It’s as if he was satisfied, but yet not necessarily feeling joy. “You are on the island of lesser glory. Here dwell those that are kin to the stars. We were souls pursuing the honors and glory of men, which in turn ignored the gods. You may call me Achilles, a soul of many great acts, but yet also the author of terrible crimes against the will of the gods. By fighting I won glory amongst men, but in defiling Hector, and fighting against the will of the gods, I have come to this state. I am satisfied but know not joy. My glory I achieved in the last life serves as my only consolation as I sit here amongst the dead, no longer capable of achieving more,” says the man. I nod my thanks for his response and continue to walk toward the star in the sky. I began to see beings of differing light, some that bore the light compared to the moon, and others that of the sun who walked and counseled with the spirits that dwelt here, and some of the star beings began to grow in light and began to follow their ministers. I continued to follow the star and soon noticed that these sun and moon beings were also following the same path I was. Eventually, the star began to grow in size and began to illuminate another harbor.
This harbor was far busier than the last one I had visited, with several boats baring sun and moon beings toward the horizon and bringing them from an unknown destination to this harbor. As I approached the ships of the harbor, I heard a familiar voice call me from a boat. It was the golden judge that I had spoken with before. The light that irradiated from him was comparable to the sun beings, yet it seemed suppressed somehow. I boarded his ship, and asked him, “so the person I am searching for wasn’t amongst those on this island?” He shook his head, “You have two more river crossings, then you will come to know the will of the divine,” said the golden judge. We pushed off, and again we floated upon a great river toward the slowly growing star in the sky.
In my excitement to see my Euridice, the time of this trip passed quickly. The star in the sky at the end of the journey grew to the size of the moon, and several small stars now dotted the sky. “I will guide you through this next land,” said the golden judge, as he moored his boat. He beckoned me with his hand, and we began to walk this new land. The island was illuminated with the brightness similar to the earth in the noonday sun. As we walked, I saw several moon beings consulting with sun beings amidst cities of great mansions. However, like the last island, it seemed that each mansion bore but one inhabitant. The faces of the people who glowed with the brightness of the moon seemed to bare a joy greater than those of the last island, but again it lacked something, as comparing those with the sun beings that bore a light and happiness that seemed full, they seemed lacking. Following my guide, I saw a man who seemed ocean worn and with eyes filled with wisdom. Entranced by him I approached and asked him, “who are you and what is this place?” “This is the island of moderate glory? These are the honorable dead, who came close to a fullness of glory but disrespected the divine by putting it equal with the honors of men. I am Odysseus, though I honored the gods and depended upon their help in my great quest to get home, I was prideful in many of my decisions seeking as much to glory myself as to appease the gods. Thus, I am here as my glory derives from myself and the divine. I can’t complain, I am more than satisfied, but I still envy those that come here from the next island who’s faces are beaming with joy. They are fulfilled, and I am at the cusp, but so is my fate for walking between divine and mortal glory,” said the man, as he noticed my guide getting further away from me.
My guide and I walked together, and I began to notice that as the sun and moon beings interacted, some of the moon beings started to grow in light similar to the sun beings, and began to follow them. Many of the sun people began to approach my guide and joyously embraced him and spoke with him as we walked toward our destination. We eventually reached a magnificent harbor, filled with ships made by what seemed like the most skilled of artisans. This harbor was filled with people who radiated a light similar to the sun, as they came into the island of the moon and made their way toward the other island or fulfill some errand amongst the people of this island. Something I found strange about their behavior was that despite being superior to the other occupants of the other islands, they did not treat them poorly, or even act as dictators. Every experience I’ve had with them was seeing them serve their fellow underworld dwellers, solving conflicts, and helping them progress. Wherever I’m headed to next must be paradise. Boarding the boat of my guide, we head off toward the moon, which slowly begins to metamorphize into what appears to be a blazing sun. My eyes should be burning, but the light is warm to them, and they eventually adjust to the great light coming forth from this great light source. My guide, seeming more relaxed begins to shine as bright as the light we are following. I watch the water of this last river disappear from underneath the boat and become replaced with what seems to be the night sky dotted with stars.
As we approach the great ball of light at the center of the underworld that illuminates the whole expanse, I see that the individual stars within the sky like expanse are individual kingdoms with magnificent castles. Several ships of the sun beings travel to their individual kingdoms, and some ships leave these and float beside us toward the source of all light here in the realm of the dead. The difference I see in this place and the last islands is that each castle seems populated with family groups each kingdom interacts with one another as if some familial bond connects each. I yell down to a person in one of the kingdoms, “Who are you and what is this place.” She yells back to me, “Welcome to the isles of greatest glory! I am Antigone, my loyalty was to the gods and my family over the glory of men, and they blessed me with glory in this life and the last!” I looked at the faces of each of those that dwelt here, and the light they radiated was in comparison to their joy, as it was enormous and overwhelming. For some reason, I felt that their happiness was complete.
“Our journey is about to come to a close, I will show you the one who can grant you what you desire,” says my guide. Our ship entered the fiery ball of light to reveal a gigantic palace. Ships from other of the sun people came in and out of this place freely. Our ship flew directly to a central hall of this great palace of light. Disembarking from the ship it seemed as if I was walking on solidified golden light. I followed my guide to a throne room adorned with all colors of light forming images of the highest art, and music of all kinds filled the ears with melodious tunes. The grandeur of this throne room was spectacular, yet the one sitting on the throne instead of being propped up in a prideful manner sat with a welcoming face and smile. The throne next to his was occupied by a beautiful woman who sported a maternal characteristic that made me feel like I was home. A third throne sat empty, and my guide placed a hand upon it as if to indicate ownership. Completely forgetting my guitar up until now, I pull it from my back and felt like I should play for this great audience. I sang of the pain of being alone and missing my beloved who was robbed of life too early, who was taken from me at the moment where we both should have felt the most happiness together. I sang of everyday struggles, and I sang of my purpose of coming here. The Goddess and God were both moved by my ballad of woe. The God nodded his head to my guide as if they had an unspoken conversation. With a snap of his fingers, my Euridice appeared before me, and I went forward to embrace her. Tears streamed down my face, and words left spoken only in the deepest parts of my heart were whispered to her. She caressed my head until I pulled away from her. Her face was contorted in surprise, and it seemed confused if not a tad saddened by my presence. “You don’t belong here,” says the voice of my guide, “In fact, it’s about time I return you to the land of the living.” My jaw drops, and I ask, “She can come with? she can join me back on Earth?” My guide looking perplexed looks up to the God, as if understanding the God’s will with a mere glance my guide says to me, “You will see.” “Thank you!” I say under my breath, as I hold onto the hand of my Euridice, and follow the golden judge back to his boat.
To have her next to me again fills me with happiness I had long forgotten. I could have floated in that celestial vessel for all eternity, just to have her by my side for all eternity would grant my greatest wish. I wept silently with her by my side, embracing her tightly worrying that anything would take her away from me again. The underworld began to disappear behind us, and darkness began to surround us until a circular portal appeared in front of us revealing the interior of the apartment that I had left behind what seemed years ago. I look at my Eurydice and take her by the hand to lead her to our future, only to feel her restraint against my hand. She smiles, and a tear falls down her face. She shifts my guitar from my back so that it hangs from its strap in front of me. She then turns me around to stare into the world I had left. She embraces me from behind and kisses my cheek. We remain connected like this for a moment, and when I try to walk with her clinging to me toward the portal of the physical realm, she again remains planted. I look into her eyes, and they are filled with tears, yet she was smiling. Taking my arms from behind she wraps my arms around the guitar in front of me, placing my left hand into position amongst the frets, and my right amongst the strings of the base. She strums the guitar with my hands, and I see her expression relax as she relishes in the calming sound. She again kisses me and then shoves me through the circular portal. I hear a snapping noise as my world fades to black as I see her staring at me falling, silently saying her farewell.
I wake up with a giant headache. I get off my stomach and look up at the rope hung in the rafters. It hangs frayed from the rafters, it had snapped under my weight. I rip the noose off my neck and itch at the irritated skin. I look around the room, and the same emblems of her lie all over the place, but she is not here, only her soft embrace and the sensation of her lips upon my face remain with me. I look out the window and see the rising sun, and take the guitar from my back and begin to play. The feelings I felt before my expedition still tear at me like maenads in a frenzy attacking their latest victim. I must play for her, and live for me, or at least I think I should. I go back to the floor and pick up the broken noose and stare at the destroyed portal to the next world. Walking back to the window I hold two aspects of my past, and my destiny and both are illuminated by the light of the rising sun. Now I am alone once more, but only I can decide which hand’s fate I must choose. Am I a coward or a fool? No matter what I choose, I am both. Am I a hero and a brave? No matter what I choose, I am both. Oh Muse, guide me, for only you can provide comfort in lies that creep in truth, and truth in the fantasy.