Melissa loves creative writing and is an avid book reader. Her particular reading interests are history, legends, folklore and mythology.
"Do I know thee?"
Adrift. I feel no peace within.
I walk, surrounded only by self...what do I seek? What is seeking me? Can I know? Will I ever know?
Aimlessness and degeneration plague me.
Exasperation inside, swirling. Ever swirling, just under the surface. No one sees it. They see only what they want to see.
I give them all what they want, don't I? A smile. Pleasantries. Normalcy. For them I do this.
Masquerader of invulnerability.
A storm brews within, but they do not know. A secret kept within. Safely tucked away. Hidden. It is not hard to hide what others do not wish to see.
A longing in the soul with no beginning or end...a constant search. An abyss of blackness. Will it ever swallow me? Do I not long for its grip? To be free of the chains of restraint. Oh, to fly like a bird!
Reaching, ever reaching. I am always longing.
The whys drown me. I do not understand.
Lost. Displaced. Soulless perhaps. Internally extinct...ah, yes, that's it. Something missing. Something that never was. Perpetually meandering my own ceaseless labyrinth of nothingness.
Longing. Hunger. Yearning. Pining. Insipid, pallid subsistence.
Dead. I am dead. Am I dead?
Inside I am lifeless. Crippled of feeling.
There must be more. There has to be more.
I walk on. The trees do not mind my oddness. I touch the rocks in passing, grateful for their indifference. Millions of years of secrets, they hold. They do not judge. They do not hold expectations. There is belonging here. My confidantes.
Ahead something draws me, a calling...in the distance, ever faint. Not with a voice, not really, but a knowing. Always. I've always felt this pull, this tug of beckoning. This time I will not turn away. This time I will walk to the call.
Hesitation grips me. Should I answer? Who am I? No one. No one, really. I'm only me. Flightless bird.
What a peculiar, curious feeling this calling. An oddity. Perplexing. Why me, I wonder. It's like being drawn by an unseen, invisible cord. A thread perhaps. A thread that's seemingly interwoven within the fibers of my creation. Onward, it calls, it pulls. Come to me.
Unseen guide, who art thou? My genesis? My purpose? I ache to know. The pulling, ever so insistent, relinquishes not. Beckoning to me, like invisible fingers manipulating the threads of my fate. Impetus. I am but a puppet. Compulsion, fixation, temptation compels me.
Turmoil. Rationalization. A thousand thoughts inside my head. I must forsake my lucidity.
I follow on. Must I not? Most assuredly I should. Blindly I trust this madness for madness, surely, it must be. What have I to lose? All that is me is just an outer shell. Courage now.
I step deeper toward its embrace, as I know, without doubt, it waits for me. The quiet there soothes my inner restless rage. A bandage for the burning. Darker and darker, I wander further onward still. Surely only the silver mother and her stars can see me now.
A clearing appears before me. I pause. Something sacred lies within. Primordial. Elemental. Shivers prickle my skin. An obscure sound that I cannot quite make out...a heartbeat? It is if the ground breathes by unseen lungs.
A fog begins to creep before me, low and seductive...like a serpent seeking its master. A breeze, gentle and caressing, strums the fine hair at the nape of my neck.
Something is familiar here. My senses heighten. Distinct but distant recognition. I long to perceive. More. I must know more.
Revelation looms, hovering on the cusp of my perception. It waits patiently for me there. It has waited eternities.
I bid my fears to fall away. Unshackle me! I shed them willingly, readily, freely. I watch them dissolve at my naked feet. Goodbye, chains! Farewell, familiar foes.
Intoxicated by freedom, I exhale and close my eyes. Trust.
A peculiar knowing encroaches upon my thoughts and takes seat within my soul. A knowing, ancient and sacred. A knowing long dormant. Secrets whisper to me from a voice I cannot see. I feel a presence approaching...a shift in the atmosphere around me. Seductive laughter wafts from deep within the fog...deep, guttural, dangerous. A caress upon my throat from an unseen hand. Breathless I stand, waiting.
Desire. Fire. Surely I am dreaming. Am I dreaming?
The air is damp and cool to the skin, froth with lechery. Heedless, I remain.
Exquisite fear. Panic. My quickening pulse dizzies me. I open my eyes. Focus, focus! Steady now.
Phantom! Incubus! Why do you call to me so? Do I know thee?
The fog begins to slowly take shape before me. An eerie stillness takes hold, a pause in time, it seems. I do not move.
I look and look again, blinking repeatedly to be sure. Are my eyes deceiving me? Can this be?
Before me now, a creature stands...mysterious, menacing, savage. Beautiful, achingly so. Instinctively, I reach out to him.
Musk...familiar and strong, fills my senses. An unmistakable sweet taste fills my mouth. His offering to me. Sweet ambrosia.
I feel a whisper at my neck, seductive and bewitching. A promise.
Intoxication consumes me.
A single tear falls...
"Yes, my love."
© 2020 Melissa Meadow
Melissa Meadow (author) from United States on March 03, 2020:
Thank you, Umesh
Umesh Chandra Bhatt from Kharghar, Navi Mumbai, India on March 03, 2020:
Mysterious but engrossing. Nice one.