The Discarnate Self Paradox - Inanimate Existence

Instinctively follow the intertwined paths through the darkness

With no recollection of my arrival

Fading images of the past are lost into a dismal veil

Masking my thoughts my thoughts with images of wretched demigods

Soot rains, and volcanic ash falls down from the heavens

Serving as the back-drop for the prophet, who speaks in distorted tongues

I hear it coming from my sub being, a voice unstopped by physical boundaries

Inhuman frequencies, oscillating.

causing the earth to quake and split tremors

The ground around me crumbles away into a blackened ocean

Now speaking to me.

«drink from the water,» a voice beckoning

Insisting that it contains the key.

the yopo tree holds great power

It is only there you can escape this existence

Captivated by the creatures beauty, diminishing the fear of death

How do I escape the darkness that has over thrown me?

«you must drink from the water to find the forest of illusion»

I throw myself from the cliff toward the dark water

Falling through the clouds that explode with electric bolts

The wind screams with the voices of the dead

I must not be one with them.

driven on only by images of the fabrication

I enter the foam breaking into a new world.

filling my lungs and stomach

The spirits aura carries me through the portal.

emerging reborn into darkness

Into a realm reminiscent of my home world.

a paradoxical plane of existence

Where physical limitation is exceeded by your mental awareness

I am washed to a blackened shore, a beach of charred remains

The gore leads deep into the forest.

illuminated with evil light

I’m drawn to the bright glow.

trees envious at the sight of life

Whispering to one another.

they are living entities in this world

Their trunks decorated with intestines.

leading to my destination

I reach the plateau.

a mound of severed limbs stands before me

Within it the great tree grows

Covered in wavy fungus with giant blue and gold flakes

I devour the over-sized shrooms

A mirror image of myself forms from thick emerald vapor

Venting from the bark.

the discarnate form kneels before me

I become bound by roots that grow rapidly from the soil

The humanoid whispers through telepathy, «welcome,»

As if a cue to rip my body from its ligaments

I am reverted to a infant of an earthly womb

Fastened to this plane