As you go upon the trail, the vistas become less and less familiar. You leave the cozy cottages and the inns behind, and go into the dark and bleak wilderness, and terrors await you, lurking and unknown. Some of your comrades fall, some prove treacherous, and others part ways, while you go along the road less travelled. A part of the heart longs to be back, on the rug, beside the fireplace, safe and warm, and another part says that the sword can never gain a true edge unless it endures the heat of the furnace.
Exhausted, you sleep as well as you can, on a bed as soft as you can make it, and wonder how far your journey will take you, and what you shall encounter further. You think in grief about all that has passed, and find a kind of catharsis in resolving to forget it all. The resolve does not hold long, however, and you drift off to sleep, looking long and hard at the shoulder and belt of the hunters in the sky. You wonder what beings could there be on those worlds, and what their joys and sorrows would be like. You ponder upon how little a speck in the immense world you represent, and how little it would mean if you suddenly vanished off the face of this world.
The oblivion, when it comes, is welcome, for thoughts can go on forever and always, and try to span the universe, which, unfortunately, cannot be spanned.
:)
5 comments:
I like it, whatever it is.
@PsychoSurd 'Whatever it is' is perfect. My sentiments exactly. :)
Well written! I like the dilemma protrayed in the post. True to a great extent!
Nice post..has a distinct lotr flavour to it!
@Nita - Really? :P
@Bharath - Well, LoTR's in my veins you know :D
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