Oppression

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Oppression

You have not experienced heat, truly oppressive, soul-stealing heat until you have balanced on the edge of the swamp and allowed its ancient and fetid breath to ebb and flow over your entire being taking you back in time by the century until you find yourself at the precipice of time itself. . You can’t fully understand decay and rot until you sit in the midst of that primordial ghoul and feel the moist condensation slowly build upon your skin as you incrementally become heavier and heavier from the weight of the eons of burdens relinquished in this place.

The rising and falling of that black, nefarious elixir mimics the heartbeat of the beast that must lay in rest in the heart of this saturated biome, some long-forgotten lesser god of stench and rot that embraces the darkness of this place as one would a intimate lover, bathed in it, basked in it…..slowly becoming part of it on a cellular level. The glistening sheen from the onyx, mirrored surface allows you to see all of what you hate and brings your fears into unflinching clarity.

You can lose yourself in this secret place so easily. Just once conscious decision to surrender and the history of forgottenness is at your fingertips enticing you to just rest your weary head for a moment……to just slow your pace a bit….and then you become part of the ever-reaching root system of the deep, insidious evil that resides here……it becomes as much as a part of you as the very air you take into your, now compromised, lungs. There is a price for peace and it is not sold in this desolate place. Far too quickly your memories become the memories of the swamp as it invades your thoughts, hopes, and aspirations. All that will matter is time…..time spent becoming part of the rotten, damp, and moldy embrace of this tomb that knows not of the time outside its borders.

All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter,
Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost
-Tolkien