Agony bound Anima
The moon was blonde ocher against the obsidian, star-dusted sky.
And although it was just a sliver; just a small, crooked smile in the expanse of the mighty night, it somehow drenched everything in silver.
It made the scene unfolding in front of my eyes extra sharp, extra clear, and exceedingly more painful.
In fact, if I were being honest, I'd say that the pain... was actually agony. Sharp, murderous, monstrous agony shredding and slashing and ripping everything and anything that is me. My insides felt like molten lava and shattering, silver diamonds. My muscles; twisted metal and splintering wood. The agony, although it was already so impossibly afflicting as it was, was quickly worsening however; manifesting itself into a full on torturous crescendo of inconceivable force and indefinable proportions.
The anguish unraveling and spreading throughout my body soon corrupted my vision; swiftly transforming the silver, moonlight bleached scene in front of me into a cascade of bleeding crimson and blinding frost. It then crippled my limbs and froze my lungs, shattering the breath within. The blood that had been racing through my collapsing veins quickly disintegrated into scarlet dust and smoky ash. The agony then went after all coherent thoughts, dismantling and destroying them. It tore and twisted my brain until only excruciating, chaotic nothingness remained.
It struck my heart. Blow after blow. Stab after stab. Then wriggled in through the gushing gashes gleefully, its' edges ripping with serrated ice and thick, jagged fire. Its' bosom-- its' “soul”, shrouded in demented, erratic enthusiasm. It was oh so ready to mutilate my already critically wounded heart from the inside out. Ready to obliterate what was left of my soul, left of my will. Ready to be the dynamite that causes the explosion. Viciously ready to be the cause of my physical death and my immortal soul's despondency.
What kind of scene could cause such suffering and pain? What scenario could plague a human soul so deeply as to cause the annihilation of their entire existence? The answer is simple. As it usually is.
Heartache. Losing the one you truly love. Love with every fiber and cell and instance that is you. Not just with your body. But all of you.
From your very beginnings to your aftermost end. A love that has woven itself in with your body, your soul, your heart, your mind. A love that has seduced you, folded itself in around you. A love that has become you. Become your existence.
A love that is your mornings, your nights, your sustenance, your reason
It's your shadow, your eyes, the way you move, the way your words form and detangle themselves from your tongue, it's the air that is around you. You breathe it in, you breathe it out.
However, in losing that love; that rite of rare intimacy and oneness with yourself and with your significant other, for whatever reason, the only thing left that can be or could be.. is that pain. That agony that seems too murderous, too monstrous, too alive to be real. To be tangible. Like a formless, hooded figure ringed in the darkest shadows of diabolic animosity and evil debauchery. An abomination like that should be left to slumber fitfully and achingly in the realms of hate and immorality. Realms that are eternally unlit with Light nor Time. Forever frozen and endless.
And maybe it does stay there. Perhaps we go to it. In the first milliseconds before you acknowledge you're losing that love. We set forth. Subconsciously and too quickly for us to even grasp what’s happening until we are caught in its' coils. Too blatantly blinded and paralyzed to screech to a stop on that road. Too stupefied to think or feel anything but sorrow and loss and the oncoming of Nothingness.
Perhaps we fly to Agony because we are scared of the yawning abyss that is Nothingness. We want to put it off for as long as possible. And we’d rather face pain, longing, betrayal, or confusion rather than Nothingness. If only we knew how disastrous, disgusting, and inhuman that monster Agony, is. How it plays with us. How it so enjoys wreaking havoc on the quickly decaying entity that is you and will not rest until you meet Nothingness at last. Whether you finally wish to or not. If you knew that, you'd also know that Nothingness… would actually be the glorifying and much more gentle, sane, and cordial option.
Alas, by the time we realize that, it’s far too late. By then, our souls are Agony bound. And once we arrive there, nothing we say or do will make Agony release us. For a time, whether that be hours, days, or even eons, Agony owns us. Owns our souls and all that we really are.