Suddenly a small drop of light falls on the floor of the corridor that I know is made entirely of black stone, and this narrow ray of light becomes all my acknowledgement from where I am.
A small red butterfly beneath that little light flashes its beauty. and I got lost in its dance amidst the tiny rays of light. Even in that pure darkness, I close my eyes to fly and ride the purple clouds, the last unheard word of the sunset… i come to my senses; I am somewhere else.
In the reiteration of endless journeys that are made by nothing but illusions, the thought of asking questions comes to my mind:
- Who am I?
- What am I and what do I do?
- What is all this beauty in the world, when its only spectator is a creature who doubts its own existence?
- If we are doomed to immortality; So what do we live for? And if vice versa, for what?
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