Awake

I awoke in the darkness of night. The world was so quiet. From afar, a baby’s cry reached me—could they be calling me? I run to help. The unfathomable darkness seems endless. Until now, I had never realized how vast my room was. My feet can no longer bear my body; I keep falling.

I may have been betrayed once again. I try to scream, yet the hoarse sound that erupts after such a long silence claws at my ears, and I find myself repulsed by my own voice. I long to go back. I yearn to see. In that moment, I become painfully aware of how disturbed I am by the sound of my own breathing.

I feel like a condemned man, willing to sacrifice everything just to be confined within a prison cell. I might be losing my mind. I can’t recall the last time I was so utterly captivated by the allure of a body. I refuse to accept a brightness in which kneeling is the only recourse.

My eyes burn. I feel as if I were encountering light for the very first time. The sound of crying no longer comes from so far away. I never imagined that darkness could become my paradise…