Literature
Anagoge
We sit chained to the ground, Staring at shadows on the wall, Trying to decipher meaning, From their formless shapes. After years of painful struggle, Somehow, I break the chains. They had become brittle... Corroded by my blood and tears. I stand up and turn around, Realizing we are in a deep cave, Up ahead there is a bright light, Shining like a beacon of hope. Slowly, I make my way there, The brightness hurting my eyes, After years of seeing shadows, The light cuts me like a knife. At last, I reach the entrance, And at first, I can't see anything, Only a vast white emptiness, Until slowly I begin to see... There in front of me I see them, Forming and unforming in time, The mental formations we create, Expanding with each new thought. I strain to the limit of my vision, And see that there is another wall, A boundary formed by paradoxes, A prison of our mental limitations. But as I look out into the vastness, I realize that the walls are receding, Ever expanding in an act of
