The Man of the Cave

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The Man of the Cave. Silent. Peaceful. Empty. He wasn’t always of the Cave. He lived a joyous, youthful existence. Slowly, he became hardened by the toils of life, like the Cave. Once outwardly expressive, passing good tidings on to those he came to interact with, even if solely on a singular interaction. As age sunk into his Heart with its unrelenting corpse-like grasp, he began to contain his emotions, his thoughts, his feelings. His inner voice became his closest confidant, and he became satisfied with this. Not realizing the dangers this created that lay ahead of him. His Heart no longer pumped Crimson Red, but ice blue. No one could reach his inner voice, only he.

The Cave was solace to him. No people to disturb its peaceful, ringing silence. No people to disturb his inner voice. Slowly over Time, his inner voice was the only Voice that remained. But the man did not come to realize this. His head, a constant rumble of thoughts, like that of migrating Buffalo. The man saw nothing wrong with this. He loved the inner voice and the inner voice loved him. Or so he thought. Until the ringing of the silence became all too much to handle.

The inner voice took over that body. Pangs of Fear, followed by a bottomless feeling of the now Abyss that once used to flow with Crimson Red, consumed the man, as the inner voice raged on with its insidious laughter. With no one to turn to, no one to put the inner voice at rest, he turned to the Cave; his old solace. But the Cave, hollowed and hardened itself, replied with that of intensified ringing. Sleep, once a refuge for the man, became endless restlessness, that seemed to be eternal. With no other options he sprinted out of the Cave, screaming.

But as he left the cold, heavy air of the Cave, he felt he could finally breathe. There was no longer a weight resting like boulders on his lungs. The warm breeze felt like the finest silk on his cracked skin. The singing of birds in unison sounded like the greatest symphony known to mankind. The meadow of beautiful, lively, bright flowers of colors never seen before, that he hadn’t noticed, was just outside the Cave. His Skin, His Ears, His Eyes all wept. The Man fell to his knees under the immense power the Beauty of the World wielded. Beauty he failed to recollect from his past and failed to notice, just a short distance from his prison. Fear, rearing its ugly heads blocked his memory from serving him good. Fear, rearing its ugly heads left him boxed in an internal struggle. Fear, rearing its ugly heads paralyzed him from realizing salvation was but a few steps forward.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt the dancing of life beat Powerfully in his Heart. His blood turned from ice blue to Royal Purple, and now Crimson Red. Regaining his strength, the man looked around and noticed even more Beauty! The frosted tips of the Mountain tops over the meadows in the distance. The buzzing of dragonflies replaced the echoing of the dreadful ringing of the Cave. The sun’s rays shined on his face with a comforting warmth like that of a mother’s embrace. And again his heart danced! Danced to the sound of the birds and the dragonflies, the sight of a conquerable landscape with endless possibilities and forms. He cried out with the joyous praise he once had in his youth. His skin now porous and filled with color, rejuvenated by Nature’s Beauty. Nature, The reminder that Beauty prevails through all, so long as it’s recognized, respected and appreciated. Nature, his new solace, slayed fear and was never to rear its ugly heads again.


Image of The other side


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