The mind, the body, the soul
Licidion - October 26, 2005
The brain felt like cracking. It was as if dry as a desert
without sand, the rocks broken and parting in certain places. A
cool drift would sometimes bring relief, but it was very short
lived.
The eyes, gone for some time by his own hands, though now he
could see. Not as shapes and words, but as the floating inner
essence of the beings in front of him. He could no longer read,
for words have no essence. They are empty.
His body, chisled from bone and dagger, crafted by loving hands -
his own. He could no longer feel true pain, and he found that out
when he began to eat his own flesh.
With all these things, why did the madness stay with him? What
workings that enabled him to see, and to realize his undeath,
leave him with this sense of insanity?
Multiple evolutions of his mind now arise. The intellectual. The
maddened. The quiet reflector. How many more would arise? How
could this still continue to be?
Something stirred in his dead chest. His heart no longer beats,
yet it skips and jumps. A burning sensation can be felt, like a
newly placed dagger thrust through, blood seeping from his
wounds. Though, he feels no pain, so how can this be?
Is there a semblance of emotion in him? Is it what keeps him in
his maddened state, even in unlife? Does he still have a soul?
Can that soul retain the emotion, the pain, the uncertainty? Or
does it collapse under the pressure, unable to understand his
undeath, effectively driving him to his previous insane state?
Could it be love?