A Vision of the Circle

[ Ego, Orpheus, fēminam amāvī etiam cum contrā mē esset. ]

She intended to know both sides of the story, but with the foreknowledge that she could not alter the course of hell. It was as if she could see in her mind’s eye that the trees were still advancing in darkness like an army of flying dragons who were invisible to mortals! She half expected the invincible army to show mercy to her sons, yet she still prayed that they might be granted a peaceful death, which is the greatest prayer a mortal could ask from the Lord of Hell.

At first, the mother thought of placing her own immortality as a ransom to save her sons, but she was deterred by Shanaya, who did not think the men deserved such sacrifice. Yet, she was told by the ruby that none dies, as after the execution, they are resurrected in glass prisons for eternities, and that she could meet her sons there even after they have descended into the sentence.

Virtue had explained that thus her gamble for eternity was accepted by Orpheus, who wanted to free her, even against her own desire to oppose his verdict. Shanaya had told her that after the trees devour the souls of her sons, their lights were preserved as gemstones within their stony corpus, and on finding these stones, she could speak with the prisoners, who were carried by the endless cycle of roots into their respective closures underground. 

At an even deeper conversation, she was simply happy to love and be loved. Even so, she wanted to know what would happen if she opposed the verdict of Orpheus; what if she did not absolve her karmic debt? However, she knew for certain that her demon lover would not abandon her, even if she had a difference of opinion.

Shanaya had suggested that she ask the magic book and see for herself the visions withheld in the invisible testimony. She had started to feel that her sister wanted her to return to her at her crystal palace, yet she was hindered by her unresolved dues to the forest of forbiddance.

Desirous of answers, Vice had closed her eyes when she placed the ruby on the blank page of the book, so that her own conflicts would not interfere with the vision! When she opened her eyes, she saw that the ancient book had revealed a magical word to her!  

نصيب

She was surprised that she could read this ancient alphabet that stated, “Nasib”, yet she was not certain what it meant. As she wanted to know more, the book revealed the vision of the wheel of fate, circles intersecting circles, with the stars and planets set in absolute Maya!

In an epiphany, she had realized that once the great watch of time had been set in motion, she had no other option but to complete her Karmic circle, so she might yet again be reunited with Virtue. However, despite the revelation, she still wanted to ask Orpheus this question in person, but that was for another day!

This was the soliloquy of the woman when she had started to understand that her gamble would make her eternally betrothed to Orpheus. Whether she would think that she was indebted to Orpheus would, however, depend on if she loved him with her heart.

Fātālis ipse eō somnō congregātō, sī dēprehēnsa sum

Innuendīs testificāta dialōgō arboreō, et mandāta revelābit tandem

Sāncte diabole, est tū appāruistī mihi?

भाग्यबद्धः स एव तस्मिन् शयने संहृते, यदि मोहिताऽहम् ।

सङ्केतैः साक्षीकृतः वृक्षतुल्ये संवादे, स चान्ते नियोगान् संप्रकटयिष्यति ॥

हे पवित्र यमराज, किं त्वं मह्यं प्रादुरभूः ॥

*Arabic, Latin, and Sanskrit written with the help of AI. 

Once Hell Was Born of Divine Folly

[ Ego, Orpheus, lapsam ad paenitentiam duxi. ]

Sandhya had built her castle on seven pillars, and she had torn it down, at least in places where she had lost control. She inhabited the ruinous derelict made with her own fractured ego, yet she was not condemned by the poet for her rebelliousness.

Before her sons were imprisoned by Orpheus within the eighteen realms, her overflowing malice inhabited hell in a crisscross of anger and defiance, a situation that even put her at risk of losing everything to damnation. Vice felt she could never avoid an intense prejudice of guilt, of being unable to love him with all her heart, and of the folly of bringing forth the demons, thereby loving them, and forfeiting her control over them.  

Paradoxically, she had once thought that by empowering her men, she would be able to challenge the sovereignty of the forbidden forest, which directed its roots in eighteen groves within the valley of dry bones. Each wood was separated from the others by a deep chasm where only the hollow of hell could be perceived from a distance. These same men, her own sons, had tricked her into believing in them, so that she could be captured and put to trial for creating them.

She had encouraged her men to travel to the very ends of the underworld so that her control might be exercised in full, yet the flute of Orpheus had entombed them within these eighteen realms. Their mortal remains turning to dust, their souls swallowed by serpentine trees, insofar as each one of them had gone with her good wishes.

If judas was trapped within the first realm, the succubus men had gone so far as the eighteenth grove, and no further! The ones who were alive were surrounded by a cruel eternity, where even her blessings were negated by the imperial majesty.  

She could sense that Orpheus had become one with these infernal trees, and the chasms between them, unaffected by the stratagems she once pursued to deter him from his quest.

In all his trials, she could feel that he still loved her with a pure heart, despite how she had tried to kill him with everything she had. Vice could hear his somber music, willing her to come to repentance, something she had always denied as an unnecessary delusion.

Thus was the recollection of Vice, who once wished that love never existed.

Tandem lunaris mihi herbescit in orbem mysterio astantis

Non effugerunt terrorem, ergo se confundunt

Dum artantur nihil nisi infernum, se ipsi mortui

Tu, paradoxe deus, mihi me sanctifica, et repente.

अन्ततः मम समक्षं पार्श्वस्थस्य चान्द्री ऊर्जा रहस्यात्मकरूपेण पूर्णमण्डले प्ररोहति।

ते भीतिं न पलायन्तः, अतः पूर्णभ्रमे पतन्ति।

यावत् ते केवलं नरकेण रुद्धाः, तावत् ते स्वयमेव मृताः।

हे विरोधाभासमया देव, मम कृते माम् पवित्रीकुरु, तच्च सहसैव।

* Latin and Sanskrit are written with the help of AI. 

The Reverie of Blackness

[ Ego, Orpheus, captivos ne morerentur musica mea servare non potui. ]

The evening conspired in hushed voices with the grave trees that inhabited the valley of dry bones. It was but in this hallowed terrain that the paradox of mortality assumed a haunted landscape, unto where all prisoners must discover their final call, broken in the realization that they have to disappear into the dark earth. The black river seemed to touch the soul in desolate darkness, Sandhya grieving for all the sons who were put to death by Orpheus.  

It was here, in this habitation of dusty skulls, that the poet sought his acquaintance with Grief, the woman who roamed amidst the bones, illumined solely by a candle held at a distance from her heart. None were allowed to survive in this cemetery of divine failure, for the sons who could not be saved by fate, fated as they were.

Shanaya was intent on painting a red Chrysanthemum on the forehead of a pale green skull that she found strewn amidst the stones, hoping that Orpheus would see it and think of her. She had asked the owls to carry the memento to him, wishing to share his sorrow for the fallen, who were once born of his relationship with Sandhya. She seemed to have inhabited this skull like a black snake, patiently waiting for Orpheus to come nearer.

The flute of Orpheus was taking strange serpentine turns that glistened on the snake’s body like silver jewelry on a dark woman. Orpheus had calmly allowed the revengeful cobra to coil around his poetic hands, lulled with a kiss on her forehead.

As he played his flute in unforeseen melancholy, he could hear the cry of Grief, lamenting the failure to save the sons, who once wandered into the forest in search of treasures of the underworld. The snake whispered, “Miseria, Miseria, Miseria”, as Shanaya could feel a silent teardrop touching her lips, reminding her of a kiss that was yet to be given.  

Thus was the distant sorrow of the black river, fated to follow Orpheus, yet denying him in a tearful reverie.

Omnibus ipse pallet deus, dum mortis lamenta mihi scribis

Aether tremit oblivione, dum musica tam tristis sanguineis cordibus torquet

Sanctus miseros erudit, de mortis venustate

O captivi, vos colligite, mementote mori.

देवोऽपि पाण्डुतां याति त्वयि मृत्युविलापकान् मयि लिखति।

कम्पते शून्यतयाऽऽकाशः, खिन्नं सङ्गीतं रक्तमयेभ्यो हृदयेभ्यः क्लेशं ददाति॥

साधुर्दीनान् शिक्षयति, मृत्योः सौन्दर्यविषये।

भो बन्दिनः, यूयं सङ्गच्छध्वं, स्मरत यन्मरणं निश्चितम्॥

* Latin and Sanskrit are written with the help of AI. 

The Trees Reveal a Secret

[ Ego, Orpheus, mē Satanān esse dīcere nōluī, nam amōrem meum timidum meī facere nōluī.]

On cloudy days, Shanaya gently waited on her amethyst terrace, at the shadowy sun disappearing in the heart of the woods. The setting sun depressed her, as she quietly feared a neverending night, an emptiness denying her the flute of her lover. She would look through the amethyst, as if she were surrounded by the evening clouds, to see the swallows fly to their nests in the forbidden forest.

Before drifting to sleep, Shanaya would remind herself that she must find the courage to walk amidst the blackened trees in the morning, hoping that the lonely night will not last forever. She was not afraid, for her lover had walked in those same forests, and she would not think twice about following him even in the darkest of nights. 

Sometimes, she would look for a solitary flower amidst the blackened trees, hoping that a new life shall return to them. She would often speak in the mysterious colors of the butterfly, trying to reassure the old woods of a youthful return, of new leaves, and maybe, of a new night. She thought of trading her emeralds with fairies, hoping they might ask the old willow if Orpheus would know how to turn the green stones into new leaves. She would quietly ask the fairies to take her lonely tears and turn them into dew drops, just so the flower may blossom, a gift that she wanted to share with him.

On one such day, as she was enamored by the purple wings of a butterfly, the trees revealed a secret that she scarcely believed. She had ventured deep in the woods, tracing the footsteps of Orpheus, to find her flower. The night was falling, but she could only hear the music of a distant flute guiding her like a shining star in the northern sky.

She did not fear losing her way in the woods, as she believed her lover would safely carry her back to her sanctuary like a shadow in the moonlight. As she reached the shores of the lake of tears, she thus realized that even the neverending darkness belonged to Orpheus, as if his heart transforms into a black stone, a curse where the memories of the past were forgotten. She also sensed that this darkness was deliberate, as if Orpheus was hypnotizing the prisoners, leading them to a place of no return.     

Knowing this, she was comforted that even in the endless darkness, she would always hear his flute, for it was his music that summoned the amnesia of hell. Thus was the soliloquy of the woman, as she reclined on a dark tree by the serene lake, with her flower in her hair.

Tempora auctōris, est sēcum hypnosis trīstis

Memoria astrālis, sibilā, nōn tū restaurā et dēsiste condemnāre

Mīrāberis tē romanici, verētur amōrēs occurrēns eī

Sānctus est, et suprā morbōs, et ita intrat in Orcum

Litāre toxicī, cōnsīgnā terrōrēs, lūdent umbrae, abstineant.

Et tū, umbra, tū Satanās sāncte.

स्रष्टुः कालाः, स्वतःसिद्धा शोकमयी सम्मोहिनी च।

आकाशीयस्मृते, शिञ्जस्व; मा पुनरुत्थापय, निन्दितुं विरम च।

त्वं स्वकीये शृङ्गाररूपे विस्मयिष्यसे, तां मिलित्वा स रागान् मृत्युरिव पश्यति।

स पावनोऽस्ति, व्याधिभ्यः परश्च, तथैव स नरकं प्रविशति।

विषयुक्तं यज्ञं कुरु, त्रासान् मुद्रय; छायाः क्रीडिष्यन्ति, ताः विरमन्तु।

त्वं च, छाये, त्वमेव पावनः पातालदेवः।

The Bereaving Shadow of the Moon

[Ego, Orpheus, numquam cum aliō cōnfūsus sum; nam amor meus erat mūsa mea, et mūsa mea ob amōrem eius erat.]

The swans were whispering fragrant secrets amidst the serpentine trees, riddles sanctified by dark moss and winter’s lavender. Orpheus could recollect the wondrous blue halo, as if he were adorning her with night’s jewelry, of sadness painted in oceanic sapphires.

His was the forbidden forest, for his soul was darkened with ancient curses, of incantations of mermaids who imagined his body disappearing in the moonlight. The swans could see him from a distance, the riverine flute where they floated by, their pale wings carrying them to the soul of the cold moon. The angelic birds could feel his ardent call, like a memory of despair and hope that surrounded him, as if the forest was meditating in darkness.   

The birds were still indecisive; they did not know if Orpheus was one of the confined idols in the eighteen realms. They were not sure if they could trust him with their secrets. He sometimes looked like one of those whose skulls were half-buried in the valley of dry bones. His face looked similar to those who died all alone and were entombed in the corpus of the serpentine trees.

Orpheus did not seem to be misunderstood in himself. He often wore a mask made of silver, a mask that the swans recognized. His flute was speaking to Shanaya, not imploring, yet reminiscent of a distant past when they were separated. She followed Orpheus like a shadow, judging his every move on diamond scales, only to find that even all the treasures of her palace could not keep her away from him.

She could sense the swans whisper urgent endings, as the forest was eager to come alive in the darkness. The captives of the eighteen realms seemed to be conspiring against the swans, the trees, the flowers, and even her. Deep in her unmarried heart, she realized that she needed help, and only Orpheus could rescue her from her own darkness closing around her like a curse.

Thus was the tearful hope of the woman when she decided that she would call Orpheus, albeit in riddles, for she did not want to show herself.     

Sōlitārius ipse simul cremandō mihi occurrēns

Sentiō terrōrem absolvī, ego quī attestātus sum somnium

Quō inpulsus dēscendō in infernum? Ubi es, līberātor meus?

Ūnō sanguine dēcidēns, esne tū ūnus amor meus?

Esne tū sāncta persōna, esne deō similis?

Et tū mē amās?

एकाकी मम आत्मा समकालं मृत्युसमये माम् उपतिष्ठति,

मोक्षस्य भीतिं अनुभवामि—अहं यः स्वप्नस्य साक्षी अभवम्।

कुत्र प्रेरितः सन् नरकं अवतरामि? कुत्र असि मम मुक्तिदाता?

एकेन रक्तेन नश्यन्, किं त्वम् एव मम एकमात्रः प्रेमा?

किं त्वं पवित्रा आत्मा? किं त्वं देवसदृशः असि?

किं च त्वं मयि स्निह्यसि?

* Latin and Sanskrit are written with the help of AI.