A Visit To Acheron
A Visit To Acheron
Last night I visited him
To his world, a place very grim and asked, is pain that needed?
Then why in our existence it's always seeded?
He was angry, he was rude,
Yet had answers instilled with shrewd.
He said, "it's not, it's just for fun,
For him whom you call the Sun."
I was surprised, seeing that he said,
"Yes boy, it's the Sun overhead
Who is the reason for pain, not a God
He is the inflictor, not a nimrod.
He makes you believe that light is good,
And darkness is ever misunderstood.
HE wants you to open your eyes,
It's his master plan full of vice.
I said, "but seeing is happiness ".
HE laughed and answered with grace.
"No, it's not, it's a burden
To bear the sight of hearts harden,
To observe the destruction,
To look at the frail,
To gaze at the withered world
Full of yellow and pale.
My boy, darkness is free,
From judgement or needs to flee
It's just there to shelter you
With no requirements, no fancy hue
It's calm and soothing,
It's a void of rage.
It's a flash of tranquil
In the blazing page;
It's cold it's gelid
Like the closed eyelid
But always destroyed by Apollo's burning greed.
The place was cold, the place was calm,
And I felt serene like a cooling Balm.
The Reaper was right about it all,
We were nothing more than the torture doll.
We burn every day until he comes up,
To break the chains, to alter the setup,
To make eternal darkness our permanent home,
To save us from pain masqueraded in chrome.