To Clear the Mind

There is a Whisper

There is a whisper. I cannot hear it. I cannot touch it. I decide to pay no mind to it. If it can not be heard, it is not meant to be listened to. No matter how hard it tries to break the silent sound.

There is a whisper. I strain to listen, but it's too faint to decipher words. Wait. There is one word. Stop. I shake my head, and carry on.

There is a voice. It's so calm, but so intent on reaching me. It says I must not take the wrong path, for it will only lead to the ultimate demise. I tune it out, I do not want to listen.

There is a voice. It's firm, stern, imploring me to change my direction. It tells me I must turn around, or it will be too late. But it is already too late for me, so why should I care? I continue on my path.

There is a scream. I cannot even see the path I'm on, there is so much smoke and thorns. It's so dark. I cry out to whoever is screaming, I tell them I can fix this problem! I start tearing away at the thorns, my hands bleeding, hot sticky red liquid gushes over my arms as I try to finish what I started.

There is a scream. The path is now gone and I am clinging onto nothing except the darkness. It escapes my grasp and I fall. I don't know how far. Eventually I hit the ground with a thud.

There is a silence. But for the first time the silence is too loud, too unbearable for me. Where is the scream? The voice? Where is even the whisper? But all I know is this.

I should've listened.