A Discussion with the Devil

A DISCUSSION WITH THE DEVIL

A wandering minstrel writing down the observation of the perception given on this dichotomy we have defined as our reality found a place to stand still in awe of the many lines on a single tree.

In a man-made grove at the heart of a city in the western lands, where many find liberty, there began a postulation of the scenery.

At first a simple thought about the beauty contained within the immediate environment; the individual’s mind soon traveled toward the infinite.

  

Many faces were seen throughout the crowd; Men holding their shoulders up so proud; Women well endowed; Youth so intoxicated they stand with their heads bowed; Elderly asking why the music has to be so damn loud.

Yet this wandering minstrel stood gazing incessantly at this simple tree.

As time flowed forth into the river down the minstrel’s spine crawled a shiver.

A hulking mass pointed upward to the sky slowly began to change before the minstrel’s very eye.

On this new object of obsession lines appeared in rapid succession

A moment so intense the minstrel was unsure if endurance would outlast the magnificence.

Frequent breaks from the glory had to be taken to catch a breath or the minstrel would have certainly tasted death.

Once composure was regained a return to the watchers post was sustained.

Harmonies emanated into open ears along frequencies developed over years of dedication to an art distributing vibrating philosophies over many lands and seas.

Where many were there was only one; There was only one where there were many.

A legion in the region of the beehive state believing in the passion found while living in the present people create stimulated the contemplation of the complexity contained inside a constant singularity bound to a genius vision of relativity. 

Awestruck by the grandeur the idea stuck the minstrel before the mighty tree once more.

Amongst thousands of voices chattering the principle of mind over matter began splintering.

Discreetly wandering from the spot of tranquility the broken soul wandered quietly out into the darkness on an unknown journey.

Away from the noise there was no longer any need for poise.

Above the heads of all was glowing a yellow-white crystal ball.

The moon was full; the sky was empty; as thoughts beyond this world landed on a fool.

Over concrete paths tread many times the strings of indoctrination started to unwind.

An idea represented by the bright yellow-white dot was the pursuit of both feet and thought.

Over distances incalculable by our mathematics the minstrel poured over the statistics.

The complexity in the idea this reality has a distinct polarity derived from the simplicity of one eternally recurring singularity is enough to sincerely lead one into the pits of insanity.

Distraught by the profound nature contained within this instant the self was wrought with a torment which had lay dormant inside this informant of the human condition.

 

Darkness Light

Light Darkness

  

Opposition creates the division of the singularity necessary to provide the opportunity for the individual to make a decision.

“What freedom does one truly have with the choices they are given in this world?”

Exhausted by the mental strain the minstrels body stopped moving from a sudden pain.

“Water, the giver of life, I must have you to end this strife.”

Awakened to the fatigue setting in, from the wandering now nearing an end, the minstrel stumbled in the direction pointed to the home of a friend.

Two strangers in an argument stood yelling at one another on the pavement as the apparition passed by unnoticed, silent, and alone.

Clarity seeped into the clouded mind as the friend opened the door joyfully.

Light beamed onto the stolid face of someone no one would be able to tell had been moving at a feverish pace which was both physically and mentally incomprehensible to the human race.

The worn body dropped heavily into a chair with one last heave as gratitude could be seen in a smile for this long awaited reprieve.

Several minutes passed while no words were spoken before the necessity provided the energy to stand once more.

Liquid sustenance poured out of the faucet in abundance as cup after cup was drank down with exuberance.

Serenity laid its hand gently on the conversation regarding the singularity chased after with futility by the silly minstrel who attempted to catch the moon.

A distraction appeared on the television in the form of a show mocking a billionaire buffoon.

The clock ticked passed the second noon when the dear friend began to swoon.

Farewells were exchanged, belongings were retained, and the minstrel departed into the night in vain.

Outside the world had gone to sleep.

In the shadows discomforting eyes had begun their creep.

With weary feet the minstrel began to tread hurriedly along the beaten path in search of the protection of a sanctuary from the paranoia induced by a fearful dread of those you cannot see.

To the delight of chagrin an orange flicker lit up the form of a person.

Greetings came through the familiar voice of a neighbor, although the sensation present stated what stood near was a stranger.

A prince in the darkness wearing the clothes of a pauper impressed a feeling the minstrel was in danger.

The conversation began with the humorous dissection of each human interaction they had played that day.

Laughter and music echoed between the houses while the moon rose in the sky until it found a place to stay.

Yin and Yang

Yang and Yin

One sat dwelling in the night while the other was illuminated by the moonlight.

The dichotomy of our humanity separated by a line drawn in the sands of space and time revealed the fundamental aspect of each denizen sitting next to one another in this realm of creation.

A slight tap on the shoulder of the night by the light caused an involuntary shiver in the pauper so severe it made the heart of the minstrel quiver.

“Do not touch me ever again”

Hissed back a malevolent voice burdened by the sins of men

Stagnation strangled the air so much the minstrel became aware a foul change was overcoming this newly acquainted relation.

Intellectual debates quickly degraded into philosophical arguments whenever the eternally pondered theory of a recurring singularity was connected to the literary subject of discussion.

Any words spoken by the minstrel were cut short with an abrupt interruption by the voice of contradiction.

“You do not understand. No one can see the future. They did not write with foresight; the universe spoke through them.”

Inebriation of the mind slowly increased the agitation and indignation directed toward the minstrel until the physical frame reached the point of exacerbation.

“You have given me much brain food to chew on. However, I must apologize for I am very tired, and must retire for the evening. Thank you.”

Laughter

“Have I!? You have pondered on these ideas of mine we have discussed this night long before we spoke of them. Do not pander me with your gratitude as if I am some fool.”

The minstrel could not respond. The tongue was bound. Blood ran cold.

“Here is some ‘food’ for thought. I sit in the darkness, always adorned in black, dwelling on the negative energy within all life, drawing it unto me. What if I am the devil?”

Fractured by the inquiry the light dispersed into the night in a blurred pattern distressing the minstrel’s sight.

No response could be uttered.

“I will be honest than, I am the devil.”

A vile change overcame the demeanor and physical form of the person still on the bench.

The disguise of the pauper was removed to reveal the wise and mighty prince of lies.

Arms appeared until there were six.

Out of obsidian glass a malicious gaze did fix.

Upon the face of the familiar contorted the appearance of the horned image of the destroyer.

Imposed on a background of the powerful symbol of the pentagram it began to speak.

“Throughout this conversation all I have done is attempt to convince you the science of man is the only truth in this pathetic world. Convince you the people and organizations dedicated to the ethereal, the spiritual realm, are fundamentally flawed insomuch they are a merely nothing more than a mockery of the natural state, and should be met with impetuous laughter. If you have purported this doctrine of mine do you not serve me?”

“Since the awakening of my self in this life I have tried to convince people of the falsehood in their religious doctrines and institutions; would this not make me your advocate?”

The minstrel retorted without hesitation. A vicious smile beamed back from the image.

“Yes. Will you serve me?”

The world heaved and groaned three times at the question; to the minstrels back, left, and right.

Silence permeated the air for a moment that seemed to last forever.

When the minstrel looked up to respond the phantom had drawn close. Infuriated by the encroachment the response was unleashed with an extreme emotional excitement.

“I am an observer of humanity. I always have been, and I always will be. I am a writer dedicated to truthfully displaying the machinations of fate spun by the hand of those who dwell within the confines of this realm. This is done for the benefit of others, not just one. What has happened this night will be written so all those who read it will be able to apply their own perception to what has occurred.

I am a guardian to truth and wisdom; I always have been, and I always will be.

I will not serve you for I serve no entity but my self.”

The power in the words spoken by the minstrel caused the spirit to recede into a barely visible shadow of its former glory.

“I have to exist! I have to be in order for balance to be maintained. Do you think I have a choice!?”

“That is a question you will have to answer, not me. This is not our first meeting, nor will it be our last. Black suits you well dear friend. Continue to wear the foul stench of death and decay around your neck so I may sense your presence when it is near. I will continue to freely choose to be an observer, a guardian, to the recurring singularity of this beautifully transcendental existence for all of eternity. Enjoy your night.”