Touch

I found myself walking down the ever-spiraling corridor, the gravel crunching beneath my bare feet and the roof above my shrouded in black. I knew not which way was right, only which way I could go: down. I heard whispers surrounding me, yet was unable to discern the source. The more I walked, however, the clearer they became.

Join. Completion. Wholeness.

I felt a part of me twinge in fury, wanting me to turn around. As much as I wished to heed it's wantings, I knew the way behind me was already caved in. Steeper and steeper became the trail, forcing my hands to seek out aid from the walls, the cool, shambly, cave-like walls.

Follow. Proceed. Ascension.

My breathing became shallower with each step, causing a piece of me to wonder why I was not panic-stricken, yet I knew the answer: I've been here before. My fingertips pondered at the texture of the walls around me, and asked my eyes to answer for them. 'Twas then I let them recoil in fright.

Fear. Forgetfulness. Cowardice.

The walls had washed away their gravel-face, and instead donned my own, all staring at me with intensity. Constantly moving their mouths at varying degrees, piercing me with their retinas, I continued downward.

Hope. Stupidity. Vanity.

I came to my destination, and found myself at the edge of a large body of water. No, not water, but a black viscous substance I could not readily identify. It was contained in a vast cave, and filled it's every corner with it's content. The walls that held my face grew here still, and smothered the roof of the cave like moss, still muttering their words.

Stare. Become. Be.

I knelt in front of the liquid before me, and could not make out my own reflection. I held my gaze upon it though, and searched within it for answers. I could not tell how much time had flown by, only that at some point, my reflection did grow within. Refusing to blink, I watched it manifest, morph, into me. As if guided by some unknown string, I followed the urge to grasp it. As my fingers on the one hand touched the liquid, however, the reflection was gone, and so was my hand. It followed my skin, climbed up it even, and rapidly pulled me in. I found no willpower to struggle.

Lost. Confused. Wasted.'
I felt the substance wash over me, felt it smother me, and I did not resist. I felt every cool ripple it sent, every arctic-like wave crash over me, and found myself smiling. I opened my eyes, and saw only The Abyss. I allowed it to embrace me.
I looked up and saw the cave had vanished, and was by my lonesome atop a hill from afar, overlooking the World. I felt a part of twinge for that embrace once more, and looked to the Moon for comfort.
I wondered why the world appeared so clear when all the natural Light was gone from me.