PROMETHEUS

I hear mankind whimpering over what I am facing now. The shivering cold, frightening darkness, and lonely space that have rested on the shoulders of mine are engulfing and spitting the will of survival from me, every dawn and dark. The chains that bind my hands are doing what they are intended to, they are making me feel pain and Oh lord I am in suffer. The rocks bedding my back and making me quiver as I lose and regain the ichor, the sun scorching its way through my skin, penetrating it and eating its way through the Nero.  They are truly merciless.

 

Mankind, the mortal, is yet to interact with the feeling I am going through, they are yet to be hurt, yet to be punished by their own. And that is what keeps me in agonizing pain for when this time will swift away and will bring the moment I fear; they will be chased by evil and will have nowhere to escape. I think and I try to look upon their fate but I can’t gather enough courage. Demeanor change is inevitable when thou shall run from thyself when Philautia takes over Agape; they can’t be running forever from what follows them till eternity. Mankind is now like a bird that doesn’t know that it’s bound to be in a cage, the cage that holds Agony, Hatred, Betrayal, Sin, Crime, Pain, Loss, Sorrow, and Horror. And no matter how much they run from it the shrinkage of the cage, the dynamics of the situation shall at one time take over them, it will possess them and will make them hungry for what they don’t famish for, it will make them foolish enough to move a step towards their own destruction and will force them to build a cemetery, the cemetery for their own. 

Untainted life, innocent stature is what I haven't seen in years but the motherly love of nature make me encounter the zephyr that carries the scent of our creation and sacrifice, it brings beauty and I feel no guilt over what I have broken rather I feel proud and enchant the names of the beings we have created and the numbers I am able to draw tells me that I shouldn't be the one to ullage but the one to celebrate for forever.

Gods now have already sent a pawn to accomplish what they will. And I see their intention drifting towards the path they have gnawed. And this time the god’s gift rather than being a boon will account for itself as the biggest curse for mankind. I try to look through the eyes of the pawn they have selected and I see its clear heart that will feel sorrow on what she won’t do. I feel more pain than anyone is capable to feel right now when I watch the life of the innocent pawn who is blamed for being evil, and destructive. No one will ever know how much suffering it will have to bear when the disease it will unleash makes a head kneel down, the evil it will free hunts down souls and the serpents that it will show light to feeds on the fear of weak. The innocent pawn will go through madness which no one will care about, not even gods. They will, however, feel proud amidst the sadness, they will not grieve but will act.

Image credit: 

Philadelphia Museum of Art,

 Purchased with the W. P. Wilstach Fund, 1950, W1950-3-1

I feel as it wouldn’t hurt the next time, I will get used to it but when that beak pokes my skin and feeds on my organ my whole attempt to not utter a sound ends up in me screaming and asking for mercy until the ridges of my throat start to bleed and my mouth spits blood when I raise a voice. I try to look upon the eyes of the beak-holder and see mercy or guilt over what it has been doing but its sights never fall upon me. It nibbles until I am left with nothing but unconscious mind and leaves, maybe with a mouthful of blood and heartful of satisfaction. The pain I am left with is unbearable, my sobbing is unheard, my pain is unfelt, and my vision is unseen but yet they are there, they do exist. Pain can’t describe what I am going through, this feeling is indefinable. The tears I draw dig up a trail through my cheeks, the stinky blood clots on the crevices of my waist, the dust infiltrates my body, my bones intend to tear my skin, and my organs tremble my muscles and skin as they breathe for life, for another pain.

 Apart from the zephyr, I anticipate the raindrops that may not make me kalonic but it clears down the bloodstains, makes me feel the sense of cleanliness, and finally paints a red-blood mark of my sacrifice. The downpour makes me feel gracious, keeps me in contact with the Petrichor, and just paints a smile on my face. And I look up in the heaven, the place where the light, air, moisture, warmth, cold, life everything comes from. The place where everybody hopes to rest and the place that shall stay forever closed for me.

There is no escape, I know, there is no end to this suffering, I know, the moment I am facing will return again with the sunrise, I know, I will see the same vision, I know, but still, I have a thought to revise and make me intact. It’s perhaps a feeling that clings only in my head and my pain hibernates. It’s the feeling that the gods may have begged the mankind with a chance, perhaps a hope for mankind to keep them from freezing over the dark, being broken, and being lost for the act of love done by me. And the mankind will follow the chance and will win the unseen and unfelt battle with the Gods. I will keep watching, I will keep myself alive and I will see what the mankind does to its humanity and how well they survive fighting against themselves.