Staring into the Abyss
Staring into the Abyss
Into the abyss I stare, looking for nothing and yet gazing with such intent and purpose that I’m left unsatisfied with the nothingness I had wanted. Into the abyss I stare, and it stares back. A soft, gentle smile grows across my face. Calmly, I reach out, beckoning the unknowable creature to venture close. The anomaly shifts, moving in ways I had never seen or scarce imagined was possible, inching forwards, cautious of me. Kneeling down, I begin to sing, what I have no idea. Words, in a language I do not know, float off my fervent tongue, matching a silent melody so sweet and yet so sharp.
The creature, now resting against my legs, was as dark and unshapely as it was in the now seemingly empty abyss, breathing deeply, in and out, sleeping as the haunting, unknown song continues. Oh, but to stay as a keeper of this rhyme and creature so tender, and yet so fearsome, the words dancing like children playing in the street, unaware of the hardships around them, not a care in the world crosses their young, curious minds. Perhaps a few minutes passed, maybe an hour, time itself seems to have stopped to watch this unnatural scene of a young woman and the darkness, usually so violent, and yet, so calm in the moment.
Into the abyss I once stared. It stared back. Now, glancing at the once insurmountable pit of emptiness and sorrow, I smile, looking tenderly at the home of things I am not meant to understand, as I guide its next beholder to its sights.