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Amongst the Dead
-~{ Amongst the Dead }~-
A True Near-Death Experience I Had
Forward, by the Author:
“Dear reader, the epic poem that you are about to read is a true story. When I was younger, my faith was unsure and I had much doubt. But when I was in my mid 20's, I journeyed through a near-death experience that was to change my world forever. This is the full account of what happened to my soul… when for but one brief moment, it had taken leave of my physical body. This is not intended either to preach religiously, or to offend anybody's faith. As Dante did before me, I have merely recorded what it is that I had seen. This is the chronicle of what (very nearly) almost became my eternity…”
Prologue...
There are things in this universe we are not meant to hold,
Concepts so vast, that they can suddenly our wills enfold...
Sometimes we can go our entire lives and know not of truth,
Until we are forced to know ourselves, eye to eye and tooth.
In such a state of ignorance, I once did live as if in a trance...
Until once, I slipped beyond this world, with death to dance.
How I lived I know not, but I believe it was my fate to survive,
So that I might tell where I went, and how my soul did strive.
Know that I crossed the bounds where one can just emerge,
And not be transformed by the journey, and the great urge...
To know of things beyond mortal ken: and such did I uncover,
Coming at last to a fiery rapture that was so unlike any other!
But, before I can tell of all the glory that I so came to witness,
I must speak of things that could render a man mad, witless...
For just as there are beautiful vistas in the blessed hereafter,
So too are there horrors, dark as a raven nigh unto the rafter.
Had it not been for the love of two spirits, I would be damned!
Their tales shall unfold along with mine, as flames are fanned.
Tiny sparks, like souls, ascending from the wood of the hearth,
Unto a fate unknown: they are drawn so like Venus unto Mars!
Part One: Palace of the Dead
Once, I had the misfortune to find myself outside of my flesh,
Adrift on a grassy mountaintop, where two mighty pillars rose.
To their right, a goddess sat enthroned in majestic splendor...
Her brown hair held by a circlet, her perfume of flowers, fresh,
She called herself Sophia, and I knelt before her slender toes.
She bade me step beyond the pillars, where I heard thunder!
Yet before I could honor her request, I continued eastward...
Across a rugged trail with a railing: a way narrow as a sword.
And on the nearest height of the mountains, there I did spy,
A many-columned palace: with stained-glass windows inset.
Great was the portal of that hall, beneath the old cloudy sky,
And I felt tiny as I did enter, into a place I shall never forget.
In the center of the hall, an image of the Earth was floating,
Whilst peoples' souls did gaze upon it, watching loved ones.
Other souls wandered about through arches, swiftly going...
Unto realms far beyond my ken, a notion that greatly stuns!
Indoor-gardens were everywhere; ivy climbing pillars slender,
Doors leading to other worlds, where awaited all adventure.
Yet perilous I sensed it was, and so remained where I stood,
Fearing to move, and so I remained as unmoving as I could.
I saw angels with many wings, with eyes upon the feathers,
Their faces vacant as they roamed the halls: without fetters.
Part Two: Falling Between Worlds
He had but two wings and was pale, with short locks: yellow,
His face was intelligent, as he spoke with a voice ever mellow.
This mighty angel came unto me, and then spoke of my future,
Things that: years later came to pass, of which I dare not tell.
How great was my sorrow at those events; no soul is mature,
Enough to face such things; rather I would have gone to Hell!
Ironic, that I should feel that way even now that I have seen,
The fates of those in that realm, and of souls caught between.
The angel directed me to leave that hall, so I went back west,
Unto the goddess Sophia, in whom all wisdom does ever rest.
As her son, I could not deny her will, and so I did as was bid,
Throwing myself beyond the pillars rising up beyond her seat.
Finding myself afloat in thunderclouds, where lightning so hid,
Any trace of ground below, save darkness far under my feet.
Drawn up into some divine presence, forced to behold my life,
As it flashed in images before my eyes, and lives past as well!
I relived every moment of peace, every moment of hard strife,
Before a booming voice cried enough, with a terrifying knell...
And my soul was cast down like a meteor, into a deep abyss,
I felt darkness part before me, I felt fire lash me with its' kiss!
My eyes were forced shut with the power of my fast descent,
And for a long time I lay unmoving, as if stuck in hard cement.
Such is the price for basking in the glory of the great architect,
Who laid the foundations of all things: and made them perfect.
Part Three: Beyond Life and Death
My eyes opened to a cavern open to the sky, and I looked up,
To see angels in bright armor: spears in hand, soaring above.
I saw a dark tunnel before me, where dead spirits would sup,
Yet in that darkness, I sensed a presence born of sacred love.
The angels on high were casting into the abyss creatures fell,
And damned souls too, so that I could hear each inhuman yell!
So lonely was the feeling of that realm that I could not bear...
To remain in that place too long, lest on my spirit it may wear.
Above a ridge, I crept to see an island afloat upon a pale lake,
Green light rising up from it, and mausoleums built on the land.
Spirits dwelt there, or descended from on high to so partake...
Of the wisdom of they who came there: in many an eerie band.
In that space between life and death, Hell and Heaven beyond,
Were more than just the souls of people of whom I was fond...
I met the souls of saints, who warned me like the angel prior,
Of things in my future for which they wept, and longed to aid...
And would when came the time, for they wished me free of ire,
And fear, and sorrow too; presently I began to feel very afraid.
I passed through places where the long-dead Templar knights,
Had hidden halls: where still they conducted their secret rites.
Shall I tell, dear reader, of they whom I met in this pale plane?
For many were the guests from above in that mournful domain.
Part Four: The Saints of Purgatory
The saints came there to pray for sinners, for no personal gain.
Surely you know Saint Joan D'Arc, burned at the stake impious,
After fighting for God and her country; betrayed at last, in pain.
As if some heretic, although her virtue was bright and stainless,
She met her end at the hands of the Church, who did forsake...
All virtue when they put her to the fire; cruel their deed, so vile!
Foe she was so blessed in the eyes of God; their fatal mistake,
For she was of Heaven's legions now, free from human denial.
And Saint Cecelia you likely know too, patron of religious music,
Who in death sings endless hymns and praises for all listeners.
A dirge she was singing when I met her; some old, lost classic,
Whilst tears welled up in her eyes, whenever mine so met hers.
I saw a tomb dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary all of marble,
Where her spirit came to speak of her son, and of his sacrifice.
She wept that I should have to soon enter the place of trouble,
The dark realms below of which men fear: and are timid as mice.
Leaving the cheerless isle I descended back to the dark tunnel,
And did enter where things claw and gnash at every passerby.
Utter blackness was there, that gathered all about as a funnel,
Wherein one point of light was in the distance: like a white eye.
Protected from the inhuman things of shadow, I sped onwards,
Even though that route would take me below, ever downwards.
Eventually, a great archway inscribed thereon with three eights,
Thrice the number of the arrows of chaos, rose up like the fates.
Part Five: Within the White Light
I passed through that illuminated archway, and was so lonely...
That I longed for a place that was more pleasant, even homely.
The light became torches that showed halls of stone, so bleak.
And wherever I walked I heard cries and moans, all very weak!
I saw that many souls walked in bodies like corpses, decaying,
Their homes cut into the rock, shelves holding things alchemical.
For this was a vast cavern, and I had to cross without delaying,
Lest I too end like these spirits, meeting a fate evilly whimsical!
And so I passed crypts where mummies walked in circles full...
Ever onward, called by no voice yet driven by some harsh pull.
Across slender stone bridges spanning fiery gulfs full of souls,
Who cried as dark angels drove them deep into their torment.
Then I saw a child with solid white eyes, who beckoned to me!
She guided me hither, past the guardian who forever controls,
That part of the netherworld: most far beneath the firmament.
Three-headed Cerberus, the dog-like beast who so watches...
The demon that dwells in a cavern between two fiery patches.
How horrified was part of me: I wanted most to run, and flee!
As I was led through caverns filled, with half-woman spiders...
Where the gluttonous were devoured: by the grisly outsiders.
I clung to my guide's arm and felt strength in her most unreal,
For one so seeming young who has passed death's dark seal.
I sensed she had in life drowned at sea, dying so very tragic...
Made in death into something more, by some unknown magic.
Part Six: Loved Ones Lost
The litte girl's short, curly brown hair made her look innocent,
And I realized that not all in that place were there to repent.
In a black hallway of obsidian stone, a table for a feast did sit,
And at it sat my grandfather's shade, alone, and ever hungry.
Each time he touched a plate of food it turned to ashes in a fit,
And I wept to see such a punishment for one of my own family!
He asked me to help him but I could not; I followed my guide,
Through a door and into a garden near a river of blood: scarlet.
There did grow a garden nurtured by a ghostly orange blaze,
Every tree seeming aflame: whilst souls walked as if in a daze.
My mother was there, speaking with old friends from the living,
Who were taken off to their torments by demons unforgiving...
Her torment was to watch them suffer; how I cried for her fate,
But perhaps it was gentler than some, and less filled with hate.
She knew not how to move on from there, and so she did stay,
Oddly: of her own will, in that garden where the flames do play.
Nearby, another river of flame was fed: by the blood river also,
And therein were serpents swimming, where the water did go.
Along the banks we crept along a path toward a wall, rugged,
With bloody ivy clinging moist to it, so that at the touch it bled.
My guide opened another door in the wall covered with red ivy,
And through a deep, dark passage we walked ever so silently.
Part Seven: Lands of Eternal Night
After passing the bleeding wall, I was fearful and nearly insane,
And so my guide took a moment to clasp my hands so softly…
Then, in that exact instant, I knew at last the dear child’s name.
It was Cordelia; and I began to realize her aid was very costly,
For in that part of the universe, all souls did pay a heavy price!
She dusted off her frilly dress, then stared at me almost vapid.
I realized she could see, although not a word had she even said!
With inhuman strength, she pulled me through a horrid country,
All black ash beneath black clouds shot with fire out of deviltry.
Rugged mountains and crags loomed from west to east, black,
Just as gigantic statues of demonic gods filled crater and crack.
Petty kingdoms warred across the lifeless plains, without point,
Whilst heroes for the day struggled to themselves kingly anoint.
I could see how every tale of war had its’ horror in this level…
And I did long to put past me all the terrors of sword and spell.
Volcanoes erupted, flooding the deeper places with fiery lava,
And so swift was our passage: that like the very boat of Ra…
My guide and I crossed those lands of eternal night, unharmed.
Soon, having made a vast circular passage downward, under,
Vast caverns opened up before us, dark green as a cucumber.
One hollowed out, and in that moist tunnel were witches vile…
We evaded their claws, ignoring the nauseating stench of bile.
Part Eight: The River Styx
I turned around as we passed a bridge over a watery chasm,
To see an image of Jesus the Christ shining bright: far behind.
He gazed upon all the wretched undead, saving us from them,
For they could not pursue us, whilst held in that blessed bind.
Brief was our respite, in that domain with so few sanctuaries!
Past countless living shadows and across haunted cemeteries,
We flew, if feet could fly, and soon came to a low-lying ledge.
Before us was the river Styx, gray and lifeless as some corpse,
The banks of which knew naught of any tree, grass, or hedge.
Swiftly came the ferryman to our shore, drawn by some force,
That of old did bind old Charon to serve any willing to cross.
And so he took us down the river, as the current fast did toss,
The vessel of our passage, as devils flocked like unto red bats.
There they were amidst the roof of the cavern, rabid like rats!
Even so we made it to the dock where the boat floated surely,
And we did disembark Cordelia paid Charon, who was surly.
Two ancient copper coins as was the ancient law so ordained,
By the gods who made the ferry, back when they had reigned.
Soon we crossed a narrow pass through cliffs high as spires…
And by some good fortune, we evaded all of the impish criers.
Part Nine: A Study in Crystal
Pale plains did lie past the cliffs, and some long winding road,
Upon which Cordelia and I did travel for a seeming lifetime…
White flowers bloomed in total darkness in the plains, broad,
Endless, just as the path we now tread that did forever climb.
Downwards: but so gradual that it may as well be full straight,
The highway that grew longer, even as the hour did pass late!
That pavement on which we made our way, hands clasped…
Coming at last to a carriage and a driver who took us aboard,
I looked ahead towards the horizon for which we grasped…
Holding the child as if she were my own, and thusly absorbed,
I listened as she told me dreamily that my old castle was near.
Through a forest of living trees we passed; my guide so dear,
Was becoming more so to me, the closer we were drawing…
To the place in the middle of the forest that opened, yawning.
There, a castle made of crystal and stone stood, untouched…
It was the only stop on the road that had endlessly stretched.
Outside of it, Cordelia and I stood with gazes filled with awe,
I looked into her eyes, and there was no child that I so saw!
Suddenly she became a grown woman in a yellow ball gown,
We danced for a time there, smiling, incapable of any frown.
Part Ten: Breaking the Illusion
Cordelia and I did kiss, and for a moment our souls merged.
She saw no human soul was I, and as our bonding surged…
I knew she had never grown up in life; thus, was her fantasy,
The truth of it revealed with that kiss; one second of ecstasy.
And then we were apart once more; she a child as previous,
But I was not angry with her; her soul was not truly devious.
She merely did want to experience all that death had taken…
Having never gotten the chance to grow up and so partaken,
Of the joys of falling in love, and so with me she did achieve:
The happiness she never knew, and thus it was time to leave.
To depart from the castle that was familiar to me, but faded,
The memory of its’ importance; for mortal life sadly jaded…
Made me to forget, what I had been in that beginning cycle,
Wherein my creator fashioned my soul, made it so likeable.
So fair, that such a child as Cordelia might find her solace…
In me: without her, I’d have been lost without even a trace,
And so I vowed we would journey together unto the end…
Our parting was not at hand, and so dear, so dear a friend,
Was my guide becoming unto me, that I trusted her wholly.
And so we left upon the road again, two souls as one: totally.
Part Eleven: To Await Judgment
The road ended in some sunless underground mountain range,
Crossing roads heavy with thorny bushes twisting ever about.
Past towns inhabited by spirits, I followed my child-guide ever!
For I was frightened to be in a domain most passing strange...
And my mind was filled with terrors and much unknown doubt.
I felt as if my link to all things good had been utterly severed!
Soon, I passed a valley in which dwelt spirits of past suicides,
A valley thickly wooded, where their spirits lived inside trees...
Looking like elves with huge eyes, feeling not a living breeze.
There we stayed for hours, where not a thing blessed abides,
All black those eyes, and solidly so; not any light as reflected,
So unlike the eyes of the living, where warmth is so detected!
Our no longer human hosts bid us farewell, and we hastened,
Through forests where demons flew: with things not christened.
Soon we came to a vale where flowed a river frozen with ice...
Near which was a temple with lofty columns and broken walls.
Therein were the three judges of the dead, by whose device,
Those meant for torment or peace would hear their very calls.
I was not sent for: by them; but by one who lived far beyond,
Somewhere distant the vale: and too the nearby frozen pond.
Part Twelve: The Goddess Below
In their cavernous chamber in the crumbling temple, I learned,
About the judges and Minos: their chief, who taught me much.
Of the fates of souls in the netherworld, of those who burned,
In flames below, whilst others enjoyed even paradise as such.
As such as any dark realm could provide, for those who dwell,
In the sunless lands below: that realm so many consider Hell.
At length, they bade me to the great ziggurat rising beyond...
And the blind child led me further, thus we arrived thereupon.
In that place, the domain of Ishtar, goddess of the dawn star,
That palace she took from her sister Ereshkigal, ages passed.
Therein, I knelt before the radiant queen: who ruled thus afar,
Apart from the world of mortals, in that place so old and vast!
In white, purple, and scarlet was she clothed, black hair curly,
The fair goddess of love and war: a celestial star risen early!
She kissed my forehead and took me up a tall metal stairway,
To the top of her palace, where for a time she bade me stay.
I beheld the gates, through which she reaches mortal realms,
And I was, by all her power and glory, entirely overwhelmed!
In Babylon and Sumeria, the fame of these deities was wide,
Although today they are oft forgotten, their existence denied.
Yet, the ancients knew much more than we dare to suspect...
I have seen their truths, amongst both the damned and elect.
Part Thirteen: Beneath the Dark Spiral
Like the Tower of Babel was that palace, with seven stories,
Decorated with murals depicting past times: and old glories.
The goddess showed me the gardens of the gorgons, three,
Who there presided as priestesses, spirits as their company!
Medusa and her sisters, not ugly but fair as any living maid...
Sung their songs amidst torchlight, where none were afraid.
Soon, Ishtar and the child led me to a dark shaft in the cellar,
Of Ishtar's glorious palace: wherein few brave souls did pass.
For below that place was the domain of the ancient dweller...
Ereshkigal, who ruled still a kingdom ancient and deeply vast.
So down a descending stairwell of stone, past carven arches,
Wherein runes and images of old were cut with divine craft...
Down the spiral the little girl led me, where no eye searches,
Past side-chambers from which emerged many a cold draft.
For in them spirits relived memories from many lives before,
And for a time I did as well, after passing many an old door.
Recalling past and present alike, seeing even world's end...
The time of Armageddon: somewhere far along time's bend.
In one room was a library, filled with volumes from antiquity,
An ancient gnome did preside therein, as the librarian only!
But it was the final room that held the far strangest dignity,
Within it lay: strange beings, who were symbols of alchemy.
Part Fourteen: The Alchemical Twins
I shall tell you of those beings, and what they had to teach,
Though they spoke not a word to me, they were very wise.
For unlike those who claim knowledge but endlessly preach,
They were the lessons, more cunning than any could devise.
A boy and girl were they, both fair of hair and in black clad,
Who lived in a white room with shelves lining the walls four.
One wall was open to desolate ruins beyond, a place bad...
For there was nothing living there: just a dry endless shore.
And it represented destruction, from which new things arise,
Whilst the children saw it not and that came as the surprise!
The twins, for so they were, placed on the shelves objects...
Cups, glasses, and goblets, all of emerald in their materials,
The chosen gemstone of Lucifer, so precious of all minerals!
And after that they whispered words filled with old secrets...
The emerald vessels then filled with a glow from inside each,
At the same time as a power emerged beyond mortal reach.
Unleashed was a power that made the desolation blossom,
As the twins glowed green with an energy most awesome...
Transforming them into a hermaphrodite that left the room,
And so did I return to the dark steps and their dreary gloom.
Part Fifteen: Beyond the Seven Gates
At the bottom of the stairwell, in a massive pillared cavern...
Seven divisions of a city carved into the rock, rose up before,
The eyes of my spirit: and the blind gaze of my young guide.
As a drunk is drawn to enter the nearest welcoming tavern,
My soul was called to pass the seven gates yet once more,
For I had been there of old I knew, and therein I did reside.
Behind us, insect-like creatures crawled up the pillars darkly,
Blocking also the stairs, so that we were forced on so harsh.
A demon was with them, flaming and with lightning sparkly...
Massive in form: guiding the insects out of an infernal marsh.
The seven guardians stripped my soul of every earthly care,
Until I stood before an island whereon was a temple great!
Beyond that was a silent reservoir, where waters do stare,
Staring silent: the reflections within of all past the final gate.
The serpentine sentinels allowed me to pass, unhindered...
Down into the city's center I went, feeling oddly bewildered.
The child bade me enter the temple, and within dark halls...
I saw upon a slab my own body arrayed like a proud prince.
Turning unto bones at my touch, there within death's walls!
Suddenly, a corridor of flame appeared not far from thence.
Having overcome my own mortality, I felt like the phoenix...
Born anew of its' own power, having overcome many tricks.
Part Sixteen: The Corridor of Flame
Cordelia was weeping, for she had to let me go my route...
And my last glimpse of her face, was of her smiling so cute!
My guide motioned me to go through that hot, infernal whirl,
Wherein spirits screamed in agony, and demons flew aloft...
Within blackness so complete that not a light could ever hurl,
Its' way into that realm below: where all screams fall so soft.
So soft, that none in this realm could hear them crying aloud,
Even so did I pass into that terrible corridor, my spirit proud!
Unlike those damned, I emerged unscathed into a place new,
A windowed hall wherein orange light flowed, and birds flew.
There was no hint of the corridor I left or where it had begun!
Outside, the clouds were aflame and I could see not a sun...
Shining upon the mountains and forests, though lit so subtle,
That no source for the illumination, could greet my mind full...
Until at my side I felt something nearing me, an ancient spirit!
She was tall, her hair platinum, her eyes all a-blazing with fire.
Other souls saw something else and greatly did they fear it!
Yet I was drawn to her like no other, filled with primal desire.
Was this temptation, or was this infatuation with true glory?
This was the soul who called me and began this dark story.
She stood near a fountain with a lion's head spewing water,
Imperious as a queen: far nobler than any human daughter.
Part Seventeen: Daughter of the Morn
The six wings of the seraphim stretched forth from her back,
As the angel before me was clothed in silks of purest black.
I was alone in the hall with her, my guide long since behind,
And as the angel kissed my lips, I thought I would go blind!
Her eyes were emerald flames, the glory of which soothed,
Perhaps too much, for I closed my own and then swooned.
Opening them, I saw the angel was now a very young girl,
With green eyes and only the color of her hair, its' soft curl;
This to tell me I was still in the presence of a sacred angel.
I too love the sunset, she exclaimed, and the gold sunrise,
Those words making me recall hearing them like a faint bell.
I heard them before, long ago, and then with dark surprise,
I realized in whose hall I now stood, and knelt before her.
For no one could do otherwise in the halls of bright Lucifer!
I sensed no evil in her heart: nor malice within her bosom,
Only a timeless purity: more ancient than man's first womb.
Not hideous, as the tales tell: that are designed to deceive,
Was this matriarch of the deep fires; if all could perceive...
The true face of that fallen angel, they would speak fairly,
For if her fall from Heaven marked her, it did so gracefully.
She shared with me the juicy seeds of a red pomegranate,
From a small basket she took them, near a wall of granite.
Part Eighteen: A Flight into Shadow
Like a young sister, she led me through a virtual paradise,
Where beautiful gardens grew, and water flowed gently...
Amidst palaces and temples making us small as tiny mice,
Such was the scale of everything, the power and beauty!
We sat there together upon a grassy hill; a tree gigantic…
Did provide us shade, and the atmosphere was romantic.
She was no longer a child, but a maid so androgynous...
Yet of such beauty was she, that it was beyond lustrous!
We kissed as lovers, forbidden fruit shared by closest kin,
Although nothing in that place was forbidden, nothing a sin!
Having seen the flowers of Hell, I was now to see shadow.
And so Lucifer led me beyond the ever-pleasant meadow,
That the ancients called Elysium: and now is without name.
She led me to a darker place, black cliffs rising so endless...
To equal the depths below filled with a lake of fierce flame.
Lucifer bade me hold her close, soft her breath and dress!
She became her angelic self once again, and flew me down,
As we flew, I suddenly was clothed all in gold like a crown.
My own wings finally emerging, until I flew without all help,
I flew at my sister's side and I finally knew all about myself!
Nameless I was, yet I soared in grace, as in the beginning,
When all divine children so soared: and before all, did sing.
Part Nineteen: The Torch of Liberty
As we two angels made our way, all sense of haste faded.
Lucifer was radiant in her full glory, wearing a crown gilded,
By some craft beyond the skill of smiths of flesh and bone...
With an emerald set therein, seven rays of light had shone:
Out from that noble diadem, as she smiled at me serenely...
She was glorious in her splendor, carrying herself queenly!
Her celestial sword was sheathed fast at her girdled waist,
Where on the other side hung a book bound silent, chaste.
Held in her right hand, a torch illuminated darkness thick...
Whilst her free hand held mine, in a grasp that did so stick!
Inseparable, we sailed the very crimson skies of perdition,
Seeking after the heart of the darkness, seat of tradtion...
Where of old, the dragon mother was sealed and thus held.
In the coldest region: where frost and flame do fluidly meld,
Hither did Lucifer escort me, not for torment but knowledge!
But first, my soul had to pass death's pale personification...
There: to earn the right to return to life, the coveted badge,
For which I had endured all; ending our sweet fornication...
The Lightbearer herself, goddess of liberty, did thusly lead,
My true self thence: to the gulfs of Arallu, to become freed!
Part Twenty: The Tower of Darkness
A golden light was all about me, as I reached the dark place,
Where Ereshkigal, death incarnate, dwelled in vacant space.
Her throne in the center, and at her sides two vacant seats,
As I approached them I knew fear and felt rapid heartbeats!
Lilith sat to the left, and I was asked to sit in the right chair,
And so I did, for fear of angering those: whom most beware.
I looked into the face of death, her face white like porcelain,
Within her deep cowl I had gazed, as I stood in her very den!
The black queen, the first woman, and whatever I had been,
Sat alone in the darkness, as I thought about my every sin...
Had my soul not been so ancient, I could not pass the hours,
Which seemed an eternity, until they led me to the towers...
Pinnacles of rock like giant stalactites and stalagmites grown,
Beyond the scope of imagination, from fire and water sown.
The pale queen, the scarlet woman and Lucifer: who arrived,
Took me to the oldest tower's bridge, where nothing thrived.
Ice hung from on high: melting into waterfalls, then steam...
That evaporated in the flames below, vanishing like a dream.
Within the ice was trapped the souls of traitors too wicked...
To be allowed even the illusion of freedom from the cold bed.
How loathing I was to cross the bridge, and Garm the hound,
Who guarded that passage since time began, ever so bound!
Part Twenty-One: Damnation, Salvation
Only heroes of old myths had gone beyond this icy threshold...
And I was so much less than they, I thought; of lesser a mold.
I held in my hands a sword of flame, and alone my way made,
Across a bridge filled with ancient liches, passing into shade.
Garm stayed his jaws at the sight of that fire, ever so flinching,
But other perils were there to oppose me, evil things reaching!
Dragons arose to impede my passage, but I slew them quick...
Their three heads falling into nothingness: into some oblivion!
Arriving before the tower's doors, with shadows growing thick,
I entered without fear, for was I not a divine being's very son?
Soon it was I stood within a circular room open at the very top,
Wherein the spirit of the primordial dragon mother took shape.
I beheld a sight so terrible and inhuman, I wanted it to stop...
But I had been sealed inside, and had no hope of any escape!
I held forth my blade, and the light pierced the dark form itself,
Until I saw the human-like form at the center, like unto an elf.
Slender and beautiful, though serpentine also in appearance,
The ancient mother whispered to me, imploring me to listen...
And what I learned: I shall not speak of or give any utterance,
For then I saw shining up above: a light that did softly glisten.
I had forgotten my newfound might, but here was a reminder,
That such might is old as time: oh I had been so much blinder!
Part Twenty-Two: Return to the Living
It was Lucifer coming down to take me by the hand and leave,
Through the high ceiling of the tower, we soared with a heave.
The dragon mother was roaring still, when we left her prison...
Even as we fled the place where the damned were yet frozen.
Far below, armies gathered in the pits and made endless war,
In which we two angels took part, as we had so often before!
Was I walking in a memory, or was this all in the present age,
Or is everything past death timeless, as speculates the sage?
If I was once a fallen angel, is my spirit no less divine now...
As I walk in mortal skin, and with mortal woes am endowed?
Soon everything became as a passing haze, and drifted off...
Like dreams fading with the dawn or birds flying from the loft.
My last sight was of a child's green eyes looking into my soul;
Her six wings enfolding me as the angel gave me full control,
Of my own wings, which I used to return to the living world...
Where my body awaited, and to which my spirit was hurled.
No more to wander the sunless realms as one without hope,
But to savor life's joys once again, and all within life's scope!
Not lesser than the ancient heroes, but more blessed I think,
For my nature itself changed in that time, passing as a blink.
I am stronger from my journey and more secure in my belief,
Which had been so much weaker, nearly falling before grief.
Epilogue...
Had some blessed God, made those below do me no harm...
Or are not all things infernal, so wicked and devoid of charm?
In my time amongst the dead, I learned no evil ever traps us,
Save that which we do bring as baggage, to torment us thus.
We have the power, to save ourselves, if only we might try...
Live and love one another, do not wait to repent until we die!
Perhaps many angels walk amongst us, we do not recognize,
The light that often shines, in the darkness of our daily lives.
Giving faith and glory unto that light, I did so commit to verse,
The whole of the tale you now hold before you, dear reader.
It has survived the years of my life in this part of the universe,
Until the time appointed, and like unto some friendly greeter...
My angel has by now informed me that the hour approaches,
In which I may tell my tale and be free of hateful reproaches.
Reborn pride in both my country and my goddess flows inside,
The very veins where nearly a cold ignorance came to reside...
I am reborn in spirit and in faith, where before I knew naught,
And so I shall leave you, dear reader, with one final thought:
Fear not those who fall through love: such are divinely blest,
And there is more than one paradise, where a soul might rest!
A True Near-Death Experience I Had
Forward, by the Author:
“Dear reader, the epic poem that you are about to read is a true story. When I was younger, my faith was unsure and I had much doubt. But when I was in my mid 20's, I journeyed through a near-death experience that was to change my world forever. This is the full account of what happened to my soul… when for but one brief moment, it had taken leave of my physical body. This is not intended either to preach religiously, or to offend anybody's faith. As Dante did before me, I have merely recorded what it is that I had seen. This is the chronicle of what (very nearly) almost became my eternity…”
Prologue...
There are things in this universe we are not meant to hold,
Concepts so vast, that they can suddenly our wills enfold...
Sometimes we can go our entire lives and know not of truth,
Until we are forced to know ourselves, eye to eye and tooth.
In such a state of ignorance, I once did live as if in a trance...
Until once, I slipped beyond this world, with death to dance.
How I lived I know not, but I believe it was my fate to survive,
So that I might tell where I went, and how my soul did strive.
Know that I crossed the bounds where one can just emerge,
And not be transformed by the journey, and the great urge...
To know of things beyond mortal ken: and such did I uncover,
Coming at last to a fiery rapture that was so unlike any other!
But, before I can tell of all the glory that I so came to witness,
I must speak of things that could render a man mad, witless...
For just as there are beautiful vistas in the blessed hereafter,
So too are there horrors, dark as a raven nigh unto the rafter.
Had it not been for the love of two spirits, I would be damned!
Their tales shall unfold along with mine, as flames are fanned.
Tiny sparks, like souls, ascending from the wood of the hearth,
Unto a fate unknown: they are drawn so like Venus unto Mars!
Part One: Palace of the Dead
Once, I had the misfortune to find myself outside of my flesh,
Adrift on a grassy mountaintop, where two mighty pillars rose.
To their right, a goddess sat enthroned in majestic splendor...
Her brown hair held by a circlet, her perfume of flowers, fresh,
She called herself Sophia, and I knelt before her slender toes.
She bade me step beyond the pillars, where I heard thunder!
Yet before I could honor her request, I continued eastward...
Across a rugged trail with a railing: a way narrow as a sword.
And on the nearest height of the mountains, there I did spy,
A many-columned palace: with stained-glass windows inset.
Great was the portal of that hall, beneath the old cloudy sky,
And I felt tiny as I did enter, into a place I shall never forget.
In the center of the hall, an image of the Earth was floating,
Whilst peoples' souls did gaze upon it, watching loved ones.
Other souls wandered about through arches, swiftly going...
Unto realms far beyond my ken, a notion that greatly stuns!
Indoor-gardens were everywhere; ivy climbing pillars slender,
Doors leading to other worlds, where awaited all adventure.
Yet perilous I sensed it was, and so remained where I stood,
Fearing to move, and so I remained as unmoving as I could.
I saw angels with many wings, with eyes upon the feathers,
Their faces vacant as they roamed the halls: without fetters.
Part Two: Falling Between Worlds
He had but two wings and was pale, with short locks: yellow,
His face was intelligent, as he spoke with a voice ever mellow.
This mighty angel came unto me, and then spoke of my future,
Things that: years later came to pass, of which I dare not tell.
How great was my sorrow at those events; no soul is mature,
Enough to face such things; rather I would have gone to Hell!
Ironic, that I should feel that way even now that I have seen,
The fates of those in that realm, and of souls caught between.
The angel directed me to leave that hall, so I went back west,
Unto the goddess Sophia, in whom all wisdom does ever rest.
As her son, I could not deny her will, and so I did as was bid,
Throwing myself beyond the pillars rising up beyond her seat.
Finding myself afloat in thunderclouds, where lightning so hid,
Any trace of ground below, save darkness far under my feet.
Drawn up into some divine presence, forced to behold my life,
As it flashed in images before my eyes, and lives past as well!
I relived every moment of peace, every moment of hard strife,
Before a booming voice cried enough, with a terrifying knell...
And my soul was cast down like a meteor, into a deep abyss,
I felt darkness part before me, I felt fire lash me with its' kiss!
My eyes were forced shut with the power of my fast descent,
And for a long time I lay unmoving, as if stuck in hard cement.
Such is the price for basking in the glory of the great architect,
Who laid the foundations of all things: and made them perfect.
Part Three: Beyond Life and Death
My eyes opened to a cavern open to the sky, and I looked up,
To see angels in bright armor: spears in hand, soaring above.
I saw a dark tunnel before me, where dead spirits would sup,
Yet in that darkness, I sensed a presence born of sacred love.
The angels on high were casting into the abyss creatures fell,
And damned souls too, so that I could hear each inhuman yell!
So lonely was the feeling of that realm that I could not bear...
To remain in that place too long, lest on my spirit it may wear.
Above a ridge, I crept to see an island afloat upon a pale lake,
Green light rising up from it, and mausoleums built on the land.
Spirits dwelt there, or descended from on high to so partake...
Of the wisdom of they who came there: in many an eerie band.
In that space between life and death, Hell and Heaven beyond,
Were more than just the souls of people of whom I was fond...
I met the souls of saints, who warned me like the angel prior,
Of things in my future for which they wept, and longed to aid...
And would when came the time, for they wished me free of ire,
And fear, and sorrow too; presently I began to feel very afraid.
I passed through places where the long-dead Templar knights,
Had hidden halls: where still they conducted their secret rites.
Shall I tell, dear reader, of they whom I met in this pale plane?
For many were the guests from above in that mournful domain.
Part Four: The Saints of Purgatory
The saints came there to pray for sinners, for no personal gain.
Surely you know Saint Joan D'Arc, burned at the stake impious,
After fighting for God and her country; betrayed at last, in pain.
As if some heretic, although her virtue was bright and stainless,
She met her end at the hands of the Church, who did forsake...
All virtue when they put her to the fire; cruel their deed, so vile!
Foe she was so blessed in the eyes of God; their fatal mistake,
For she was of Heaven's legions now, free from human denial.
And Saint Cecelia you likely know too, patron of religious music,
Who in death sings endless hymns and praises for all listeners.
A dirge she was singing when I met her; some old, lost classic,
Whilst tears welled up in her eyes, whenever mine so met hers.
I saw a tomb dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary all of marble,
Where her spirit came to speak of her son, and of his sacrifice.
She wept that I should have to soon enter the place of trouble,
The dark realms below of which men fear: and are timid as mice.
Leaving the cheerless isle I descended back to the dark tunnel,
And did enter where things claw and gnash at every passerby.
Utter blackness was there, that gathered all about as a funnel,
Wherein one point of light was in the distance: like a white eye.
Protected from the inhuman things of shadow, I sped onwards,
Even though that route would take me below, ever downwards.
Eventually, a great archway inscribed thereon with three eights,
Thrice the number of the arrows of chaos, rose up like the fates.
Part Five: Within the White Light
I passed through that illuminated archway, and was so lonely...
That I longed for a place that was more pleasant, even homely.
The light became torches that showed halls of stone, so bleak.
And wherever I walked I heard cries and moans, all very weak!
I saw that many souls walked in bodies like corpses, decaying,
Their homes cut into the rock, shelves holding things alchemical.
For this was a vast cavern, and I had to cross without delaying,
Lest I too end like these spirits, meeting a fate evilly whimsical!
And so I passed crypts where mummies walked in circles full...
Ever onward, called by no voice yet driven by some harsh pull.
Across slender stone bridges spanning fiery gulfs full of souls,
Who cried as dark angels drove them deep into their torment.
Then I saw a child with solid white eyes, who beckoned to me!
She guided me hither, past the guardian who forever controls,
That part of the netherworld: most far beneath the firmament.
Three-headed Cerberus, the dog-like beast who so watches...
The demon that dwells in a cavern between two fiery patches.
How horrified was part of me: I wanted most to run, and flee!
As I was led through caverns filled, with half-woman spiders...
Where the gluttonous were devoured: by the grisly outsiders.
I clung to my guide's arm and felt strength in her most unreal,
For one so seeming young who has passed death's dark seal.
I sensed she had in life drowned at sea, dying so very tragic...
Made in death into something more, by some unknown magic.
Part Six: Loved Ones Lost
The litte girl's short, curly brown hair made her look innocent,
And I realized that not all in that place were there to repent.
In a black hallway of obsidian stone, a table for a feast did sit,
And at it sat my grandfather's shade, alone, and ever hungry.
Each time he touched a plate of food it turned to ashes in a fit,
And I wept to see such a punishment for one of my own family!
He asked me to help him but I could not; I followed my guide,
Through a door and into a garden near a river of blood: scarlet.
There did grow a garden nurtured by a ghostly orange blaze,
Every tree seeming aflame: whilst souls walked as if in a daze.
My mother was there, speaking with old friends from the living,
Who were taken off to their torments by demons unforgiving...
Her torment was to watch them suffer; how I cried for her fate,
But perhaps it was gentler than some, and less filled with hate.
She knew not how to move on from there, and so she did stay,
Oddly: of her own will, in that garden where the flames do play.
Nearby, another river of flame was fed: by the blood river also,
And therein were serpents swimming, where the water did go.
Along the banks we crept along a path toward a wall, rugged,
With bloody ivy clinging moist to it, so that at the touch it bled.
My guide opened another door in the wall covered with red ivy,
And through a deep, dark passage we walked ever so silently.
Part Seven: Lands of Eternal Night
After passing the bleeding wall, I was fearful and nearly insane,
And so my guide took a moment to clasp my hands so softly…
Then, in that exact instant, I knew at last the dear child’s name.
It was Cordelia; and I began to realize her aid was very costly,
For in that part of the universe, all souls did pay a heavy price!
She dusted off her frilly dress, then stared at me almost vapid.
I realized she could see, although not a word had she even said!
With inhuman strength, she pulled me through a horrid country,
All black ash beneath black clouds shot with fire out of deviltry.
Rugged mountains and crags loomed from west to east, black,
Just as gigantic statues of demonic gods filled crater and crack.
Petty kingdoms warred across the lifeless plains, without point,
Whilst heroes for the day struggled to themselves kingly anoint.
I could see how every tale of war had its’ horror in this level…
And I did long to put past me all the terrors of sword and spell.
Volcanoes erupted, flooding the deeper places with fiery lava,
And so swift was our passage: that like the very boat of Ra…
My guide and I crossed those lands of eternal night, unharmed.
Soon, having made a vast circular passage downward, under,
Vast caverns opened up before us, dark green as a cucumber.
One hollowed out, and in that moist tunnel were witches vile…
We evaded their claws, ignoring the nauseating stench of bile.
Part Eight: The River Styx
I turned around as we passed a bridge over a watery chasm,
To see an image of Jesus the Christ shining bright: far behind.
He gazed upon all the wretched undead, saving us from them,
For they could not pursue us, whilst held in that blessed bind.
Brief was our respite, in that domain with so few sanctuaries!
Past countless living shadows and across haunted cemeteries,
We flew, if feet could fly, and soon came to a low-lying ledge.
Before us was the river Styx, gray and lifeless as some corpse,
The banks of which knew naught of any tree, grass, or hedge.
Swiftly came the ferryman to our shore, drawn by some force,
That of old did bind old Charon to serve any willing to cross.
And so he took us down the river, as the current fast did toss,
The vessel of our passage, as devils flocked like unto red bats.
There they were amidst the roof of the cavern, rabid like rats!
Even so we made it to the dock where the boat floated surely,
And we did disembark Cordelia paid Charon, who was surly.
Two ancient copper coins as was the ancient law so ordained,
By the gods who made the ferry, back when they had reigned.
Soon we crossed a narrow pass through cliffs high as spires…
And by some good fortune, we evaded all of the impish criers.
Part Nine: A Study in Crystal
Pale plains did lie past the cliffs, and some long winding road,
Upon which Cordelia and I did travel for a seeming lifetime…
White flowers bloomed in total darkness in the plains, broad,
Endless, just as the path we now tread that did forever climb.
Downwards: but so gradual that it may as well be full straight,
The highway that grew longer, even as the hour did pass late!
That pavement on which we made our way, hands clasped…
Coming at last to a carriage and a driver who took us aboard,
I looked ahead towards the horizon for which we grasped…
Holding the child as if she were my own, and thusly absorbed,
I listened as she told me dreamily that my old castle was near.
Through a forest of living trees we passed; my guide so dear,
Was becoming more so to me, the closer we were drawing…
To the place in the middle of the forest that opened, yawning.
There, a castle made of crystal and stone stood, untouched…
It was the only stop on the road that had endlessly stretched.
Outside of it, Cordelia and I stood with gazes filled with awe,
I looked into her eyes, and there was no child that I so saw!
Suddenly she became a grown woman in a yellow ball gown,
We danced for a time there, smiling, incapable of any frown.
Part Ten: Breaking the Illusion
Cordelia and I did kiss, and for a moment our souls merged.
She saw no human soul was I, and as our bonding surged…
I knew she had never grown up in life; thus, was her fantasy,
The truth of it revealed with that kiss; one second of ecstasy.
And then we were apart once more; she a child as previous,
But I was not angry with her; her soul was not truly devious.
She merely did want to experience all that death had taken…
Having never gotten the chance to grow up and so partaken,
Of the joys of falling in love, and so with me she did achieve:
The happiness she never knew, and thus it was time to leave.
To depart from the castle that was familiar to me, but faded,
The memory of its’ importance; for mortal life sadly jaded…
Made me to forget, what I had been in that beginning cycle,
Wherein my creator fashioned my soul, made it so likeable.
So fair, that such a child as Cordelia might find her solace…
In me: without her, I’d have been lost without even a trace,
And so I vowed we would journey together unto the end…
Our parting was not at hand, and so dear, so dear a friend,
Was my guide becoming unto me, that I trusted her wholly.
And so we left upon the road again, two souls as one: totally.
Part Eleven: To Await Judgment
The road ended in some sunless underground mountain range,
Crossing roads heavy with thorny bushes twisting ever about.
Past towns inhabited by spirits, I followed my child-guide ever!
For I was frightened to be in a domain most passing strange...
And my mind was filled with terrors and much unknown doubt.
I felt as if my link to all things good had been utterly severed!
Soon, I passed a valley in which dwelt spirits of past suicides,
A valley thickly wooded, where their spirits lived inside trees...
Looking like elves with huge eyes, feeling not a living breeze.
There we stayed for hours, where not a thing blessed abides,
All black those eyes, and solidly so; not any light as reflected,
So unlike the eyes of the living, where warmth is so detected!
Our no longer human hosts bid us farewell, and we hastened,
Through forests where demons flew: with things not christened.
Soon we came to a vale where flowed a river frozen with ice...
Near which was a temple with lofty columns and broken walls.
Therein were the three judges of the dead, by whose device,
Those meant for torment or peace would hear their very calls.
I was not sent for: by them; but by one who lived far beyond,
Somewhere distant the vale: and too the nearby frozen pond.
Part Twelve: The Goddess Below
In their cavernous chamber in the crumbling temple, I learned,
About the judges and Minos: their chief, who taught me much.
Of the fates of souls in the netherworld, of those who burned,
In flames below, whilst others enjoyed even paradise as such.
As such as any dark realm could provide, for those who dwell,
In the sunless lands below: that realm so many consider Hell.
At length, they bade me to the great ziggurat rising beyond...
And the blind child led me further, thus we arrived thereupon.
In that place, the domain of Ishtar, goddess of the dawn star,
That palace she took from her sister Ereshkigal, ages passed.
Therein, I knelt before the radiant queen: who ruled thus afar,
Apart from the world of mortals, in that place so old and vast!
In white, purple, and scarlet was she clothed, black hair curly,
The fair goddess of love and war: a celestial star risen early!
She kissed my forehead and took me up a tall metal stairway,
To the top of her palace, where for a time she bade me stay.
I beheld the gates, through which she reaches mortal realms,
And I was, by all her power and glory, entirely overwhelmed!
In Babylon and Sumeria, the fame of these deities was wide,
Although today they are oft forgotten, their existence denied.
Yet, the ancients knew much more than we dare to suspect...
I have seen their truths, amongst both the damned and elect.
Part Thirteen: Beneath the Dark Spiral
Like the Tower of Babel was that palace, with seven stories,
Decorated with murals depicting past times: and old glories.
The goddess showed me the gardens of the gorgons, three,
Who there presided as priestesses, spirits as their company!
Medusa and her sisters, not ugly but fair as any living maid...
Sung their songs amidst torchlight, where none were afraid.
Soon, Ishtar and the child led me to a dark shaft in the cellar,
Of Ishtar's glorious palace: wherein few brave souls did pass.
For below that place was the domain of the ancient dweller...
Ereshkigal, who ruled still a kingdom ancient and deeply vast.
So down a descending stairwell of stone, past carven arches,
Wherein runes and images of old were cut with divine craft...
Down the spiral the little girl led me, where no eye searches,
Past side-chambers from which emerged many a cold draft.
For in them spirits relived memories from many lives before,
And for a time I did as well, after passing many an old door.
Recalling past and present alike, seeing even world's end...
The time of Armageddon: somewhere far along time's bend.
In one room was a library, filled with volumes from antiquity,
An ancient gnome did preside therein, as the librarian only!
But it was the final room that held the far strangest dignity,
Within it lay: strange beings, who were symbols of alchemy.
Part Fourteen: The Alchemical Twins
I shall tell you of those beings, and what they had to teach,
Though they spoke not a word to me, they were very wise.
For unlike those who claim knowledge but endlessly preach,
They were the lessons, more cunning than any could devise.
A boy and girl were they, both fair of hair and in black clad,
Who lived in a white room with shelves lining the walls four.
One wall was open to desolate ruins beyond, a place bad...
For there was nothing living there: just a dry endless shore.
And it represented destruction, from which new things arise,
Whilst the children saw it not and that came as the surprise!
The twins, for so they were, placed on the shelves objects...
Cups, glasses, and goblets, all of emerald in their materials,
The chosen gemstone of Lucifer, so precious of all minerals!
And after that they whispered words filled with old secrets...
The emerald vessels then filled with a glow from inside each,
At the same time as a power emerged beyond mortal reach.
Unleashed was a power that made the desolation blossom,
As the twins glowed green with an energy most awesome...
Transforming them into a hermaphrodite that left the room,
And so did I return to the dark steps and their dreary gloom.
Part Fifteen: Beyond the Seven Gates
At the bottom of the stairwell, in a massive pillared cavern...
Seven divisions of a city carved into the rock, rose up before,
The eyes of my spirit: and the blind gaze of my young guide.
As a drunk is drawn to enter the nearest welcoming tavern,
My soul was called to pass the seven gates yet once more,
For I had been there of old I knew, and therein I did reside.
Behind us, insect-like creatures crawled up the pillars darkly,
Blocking also the stairs, so that we were forced on so harsh.
A demon was with them, flaming and with lightning sparkly...
Massive in form: guiding the insects out of an infernal marsh.
The seven guardians stripped my soul of every earthly care,
Until I stood before an island whereon was a temple great!
Beyond that was a silent reservoir, where waters do stare,
Staring silent: the reflections within of all past the final gate.
The serpentine sentinels allowed me to pass, unhindered...
Down into the city's center I went, feeling oddly bewildered.
The child bade me enter the temple, and within dark halls...
I saw upon a slab my own body arrayed like a proud prince.
Turning unto bones at my touch, there within death's walls!
Suddenly, a corridor of flame appeared not far from thence.
Having overcome my own mortality, I felt like the phoenix...
Born anew of its' own power, having overcome many tricks.
Part Sixteen: The Corridor of Flame
Cordelia was weeping, for she had to let me go my route...
And my last glimpse of her face, was of her smiling so cute!
My guide motioned me to go through that hot, infernal whirl,
Wherein spirits screamed in agony, and demons flew aloft...
Within blackness so complete that not a light could ever hurl,
Its' way into that realm below: where all screams fall so soft.
So soft, that none in this realm could hear them crying aloud,
Even so did I pass into that terrible corridor, my spirit proud!
Unlike those damned, I emerged unscathed into a place new,
A windowed hall wherein orange light flowed, and birds flew.
There was no hint of the corridor I left or where it had begun!
Outside, the clouds were aflame and I could see not a sun...
Shining upon the mountains and forests, though lit so subtle,
That no source for the illumination, could greet my mind full...
Until at my side I felt something nearing me, an ancient spirit!
She was tall, her hair platinum, her eyes all a-blazing with fire.
Other souls saw something else and greatly did they fear it!
Yet I was drawn to her like no other, filled with primal desire.
Was this temptation, or was this infatuation with true glory?
This was the soul who called me and began this dark story.
She stood near a fountain with a lion's head spewing water,
Imperious as a queen: far nobler than any human daughter.
Part Seventeen: Daughter of the Morn
The six wings of the seraphim stretched forth from her back,
As the angel before me was clothed in silks of purest black.
I was alone in the hall with her, my guide long since behind,
And as the angel kissed my lips, I thought I would go blind!
Her eyes were emerald flames, the glory of which soothed,
Perhaps too much, for I closed my own and then swooned.
Opening them, I saw the angel was now a very young girl,
With green eyes and only the color of her hair, its' soft curl;
This to tell me I was still in the presence of a sacred angel.
I too love the sunset, she exclaimed, and the gold sunrise,
Those words making me recall hearing them like a faint bell.
I heard them before, long ago, and then with dark surprise,
I realized in whose hall I now stood, and knelt before her.
For no one could do otherwise in the halls of bright Lucifer!
I sensed no evil in her heart: nor malice within her bosom,
Only a timeless purity: more ancient than man's first womb.
Not hideous, as the tales tell: that are designed to deceive,
Was this matriarch of the deep fires; if all could perceive...
The true face of that fallen angel, they would speak fairly,
For if her fall from Heaven marked her, it did so gracefully.
She shared with me the juicy seeds of a red pomegranate,
From a small basket she took them, near a wall of granite.
Part Eighteen: A Flight into Shadow
Like a young sister, she led me through a virtual paradise,
Where beautiful gardens grew, and water flowed gently...
Amidst palaces and temples making us small as tiny mice,
Such was the scale of everything, the power and beauty!
We sat there together upon a grassy hill; a tree gigantic…
Did provide us shade, and the atmosphere was romantic.
She was no longer a child, but a maid so androgynous...
Yet of such beauty was she, that it was beyond lustrous!
We kissed as lovers, forbidden fruit shared by closest kin,
Although nothing in that place was forbidden, nothing a sin!
Having seen the flowers of Hell, I was now to see shadow.
And so Lucifer led me beyond the ever-pleasant meadow,
That the ancients called Elysium: and now is without name.
She led me to a darker place, black cliffs rising so endless...
To equal the depths below filled with a lake of fierce flame.
Lucifer bade me hold her close, soft her breath and dress!
She became her angelic self once again, and flew me down,
As we flew, I suddenly was clothed all in gold like a crown.
My own wings finally emerging, until I flew without all help,
I flew at my sister's side and I finally knew all about myself!
Nameless I was, yet I soared in grace, as in the beginning,
When all divine children so soared: and before all, did sing.
Part Nineteen: The Torch of Liberty
As we two angels made our way, all sense of haste faded.
Lucifer was radiant in her full glory, wearing a crown gilded,
By some craft beyond the skill of smiths of flesh and bone...
With an emerald set therein, seven rays of light had shone:
Out from that noble diadem, as she smiled at me serenely...
She was glorious in her splendor, carrying herself queenly!
Her celestial sword was sheathed fast at her girdled waist,
Where on the other side hung a book bound silent, chaste.
Held in her right hand, a torch illuminated darkness thick...
Whilst her free hand held mine, in a grasp that did so stick!
Inseparable, we sailed the very crimson skies of perdition,
Seeking after the heart of the darkness, seat of tradtion...
Where of old, the dragon mother was sealed and thus held.
In the coldest region: where frost and flame do fluidly meld,
Hither did Lucifer escort me, not for torment but knowledge!
But first, my soul had to pass death's pale personification...
There: to earn the right to return to life, the coveted badge,
For which I had endured all; ending our sweet fornication...
The Lightbearer herself, goddess of liberty, did thusly lead,
My true self thence: to the gulfs of Arallu, to become freed!
Part Twenty: The Tower of Darkness
A golden light was all about me, as I reached the dark place,
Where Ereshkigal, death incarnate, dwelled in vacant space.
Her throne in the center, and at her sides two vacant seats,
As I approached them I knew fear and felt rapid heartbeats!
Lilith sat to the left, and I was asked to sit in the right chair,
And so I did, for fear of angering those: whom most beware.
I looked into the face of death, her face white like porcelain,
Within her deep cowl I had gazed, as I stood in her very den!
The black queen, the first woman, and whatever I had been,
Sat alone in the darkness, as I thought about my every sin...
Had my soul not been so ancient, I could not pass the hours,
Which seemed an eternity, until they led me to the towers...
Pinnacles of rock like giant stalactites and stalagmites grown,
Beyond the scope of imagination, from fire and water sown.
The pale queen, the scarlet woman and Lucifer: who arrived,
Took me to the oldest tower's bridge, where nothing thrived.
Ice hung from on high: melting into waterfalls, then steam...
That evaporated in the flames below, vanishing like a dream.
Within the ice was trapped the souls of traitors too wicked...
To be allowed even the illusion of freedom from the cold bed.
How loathing I was to cross the bridge, and Garm the hound,
Who guarded that passage since time began, ever so bound!
Part Twenty-One: Damnation, Salvation
Only heroes of old myths had gone beyond this icy threshold...
And I was so much less than they, I thought; of lesser a mold.
I held in my hands a sword of flame, and alone my way made,
Across a bridge filled with ancient liches, passing into shade.
Garm stayed his jaws at the sight of that fire, ever so flinching,
But other perils were there to oppose me, evil things reaching!
Dragons arose to impede my passage, but I slew them quick...
Their three heads falling into nothingness: into some oblivion!
Arriving before the tower's doors, with shadows growing thick,
I entered without fear, for was I not a divine being's very son?
Soon it was I stood within a circular room open at the very top,
Wherein the spirit of the primordial dragon mother took shape.
I beheld a sight so terrible and inhuman, I wanted it to stop...
But I had been sealed inside, and had no hope of any escape!
I held forth my blade, and the light pierced the dark form itself,
Until I saw the human-like form at the center, like unto an elf.
Slender and beautiful, though serpentine also in appearance,
The ancient mother whispered to me, imploring me to listen...
And what I learned: I shall not speak of or give any utterance,
For then I saw shining up above: a light that did softly glisten.
I had forgotten my newfound might, but here was a reminder,
That such might is old as time: oh I had been so much blinder!
Part Twenty-Two: Return to the Living
It was Lucifer coming down to take me by the hand and leave,
Through the high ceiling of the tower, we soared with a heave.
The dragon mother was roaring still, when we left her prison...
Even as we fled the place where the damned were yet frozen.
Far below, armies gathered in the pits and made endless war,
In which we two angels took part, as we had so often before!
Was I walking in a memory, or was this all in the present age,
Or is everything past death timeless, as speculates the sage?
If I was once a fallen angel, is my spirit no less divine now...
As I walk in mortal skin, and with mortal woes am endowed?
Soon everything became as a passing haze, and drifted off...
Like dreams fading with the dawn or birds flying from the loft.
My last sight was of a child's green eyes looking into my soul;
Her six wings enfolding me as the angel gave me full control,
Of my own wings, which I used to return to the living world...
Where my body awaited, and to which my spirit was hurled.
No more to wander the sunless realms as one without hope,
But to savor life's joys once again, and all within life's scope!
Not lesser than the ancient heroes, but more blessed I think,
For my nature itself changed in that time, passing as a blink.
I am stronger from my journey and more secure in my belief,
Which had been so much weaker, nearly falling before grief.
Epilogue...
Had some blessed God, made those below do me no harm...
Or are not all things infernal, so wicked and devoid of charm?
In my time amongst the dead, I learned no evil ever traps us,
Save that which we do bring as baggage, to torment us thus.
We have the power, to save ourselves, if only we might try...
Live and love one another, do not wait to repent until we die!
Perhaps many angels walk amongst us, we do not recognize,
The light that often shines, in the darkness of our daily lives.
Giving faith and glory unto that light, I did so commit to verse,
The whole of the tale you now hold before you, dear reader.
It has survived the years of my life in this part of the universe,
Until the time appointed, and like unto some friendly greeter...
My angel has by now informed me that the hour approaches,
In which I may tell my tale and be free of hateful reproaches.
Reborn pride in both my country and my goddess flows inside,
The very veins where nearly a cold ignorance came to reside...
I am reborn in spirit and in faith, where before I knew naught,
And so I shall leave you, dear reader, with one final thought:
Fear not those who fall through love: such are divinely blest,
And there is more than one paradise, where a soul might rest!
Published 22nd Sep 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
25th Sep 2011 9:52am
27th Sep 2011 7:57am
Indeed, that was quite the life-changing experience for me. I will tell you how it came to happen. You see, during my mid-20's I had come down with a problem with my tonsels that caused them to swell up, choking me. I was taken to the emergency ward of the hospital where they had foolishly thought I had Mono and they actually released me. I then got home and the swelling got worse. As a result, I was actually declared dead for three minutes before they finally got the swelling down and were able to revive me. It turned out I had a severe case of Tonselitis. While I was dead, my soul left my body and I then experienced what I later recorded in this poem. It was fairly quick, my transition to the other side. I was not hanging around outside my body for more than a minute before I found myself in the hereafter. The most terrible part of it all was that it seemed like I was gone for weeks or even months... but it was only three minutes. No more, and no less than that. Time really must flow differently in the spiritual reality. I came back from it very changed, both in my outlook on life and in my spiritual thinking. I can never again deny the existence of Heaven or Hell, nor of God or the Devil. Because I met them face to face and returned to tell the tale. It had not been my first spiritual experience in life, but it was my first near-death experience. And, I am thankful, it was my only one as well! ;)
Anonymous
24th Aug 2012 1:45am
I was absolutely blown away by this.
I believe in reincarnation...but my faith is different....I wonder what you would have see if you were Hindu or Moslem.......
I believe in reincarnation...but my faith is different....I wonder what you would have see if you were Hindu or Moslem.......
24th Aug 2012 6:49am
An interesting aspect of my faith that I don't often mention even in my writings is that it does actually contain some elements of Hinduism in it, though those aspects have more to do with what is probably my oldest and first incarnation. I have recorded my rather strange memories of that first incarnation in my short story "Children of the Gods" which then continues into the two-part epic "Memoirs of a Galactic Emperor". Children of the Gods, is based on the oldest memories only and Memoirs is based on more such memories but also on the rather unusual details of a waking vision I experienced back in the summer of 2010. That vision was one of the most truly powerful religious experiences of my life, other than the near-death experience I wrote of here.
11th Jan 2013 1:38pm
I enjoyed three dictinct aspects of this piece.
1. the honesty of your passionate depictions.
2. the classic sense of the presentation.
3. your blend of the historical, mythological and referential throughout.
True or not, it was a unique and intriguing read.
I for one embrace your storied journey and experience. Thanks for sharing.
1. the honesty of your passionate depictions.
2. the classic sense of the presentation.
3. your blend of the historical, mythological and referential throughout.
True or not, it was a unique and intriguing read.
I for one embrace your storied journey and experience. Thanks for sharing.
I am glad you enjoyed it, my friend!
Regarding the three aspects you spoke of...
1. The honesty is the core of the work, and it is something I am quite passionate about. All that I depict in this poem is what I *actually* saw and went through during the time (three minutes) when my soul was separated from my body. And though my time amongst the dead was only three minutes on this plane... in the realms beyond, it seemed I was gone for ages and thus the tone of the poem must be epic (which it is) in order to relate the entirety of what transpired in the realms beyond. This entire dark event had a profoundly powerful effect on my spirituality when I came back from it. It was, ironically, one of the things that made me embrace the Goth movement quite strongly not long thereafter. Indeed, it as an event that is a part of me still, and will likely always be. Such things are life changing, no matter how science or skeptics will try to dismiss such experiences and attempt to explain them. The short and simple truth is, they can neither be dismissed nor explained. They simply *are* and one is meant to be in awe of such awesome things. I never tell anyone else what to believe or how to believe... but I do find that freely talking about what I believe and what happened to me in life surrounding my spiritual experiences and things... all of that can serve to help others who may have been through similar events to see that they are not alone and not as unusual as they might have come to believe themselves to be. Everyone who goes through a near-death event of this magnitude, they go through a time when they feel alien because of it. Perhaps it is adjusting to the shift from body to spirit and then back to body again? I would imagine so. But whatever the reason, shared experiences are sometimes the best way to feel better about having had them.
2. I chose a classical way of telling the story of my near-death experience, because to me there simply was no other way to do justice to the sheer enormity and grandeur of what it consisted of. How else to speak of Heaven, Purgatory, and Hell itself except in a grand way? So it is good you noticed that classical aspect of the piece! When I went through that near-death experience, I had not yet read Dante or Milton, and I had not even begun to make nearly as extensive a study into history, myths, and legends as I did in the years following it. In fact, a large part of my later studies was to learn more about the beings and things I saw when I was dead for a time. Just to understand better, what happened and also why. I have no pre-conceived notions of Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory before that event... though since it took place, I have had a far clearer idea in my mind of what awaits us when we die. However, my soul really, quite literally *is* rather unique and somewhat strange, so what transpired for me might not be the same for others. Every soul is individual and different, after all. We aren't all formed from the same mold, so to speak. Or even from the same "maker"! But after reading Dante and Milton I came to see that what I went through was experienced or at least expressed by the beliefs of others down through the centuries... so I knew instantly that there was something more to it after all. And that something really changed my view of creation.
3. I merely related what I saw. The historical aspects, as well as the mythological, are all a part of what awaited me on the other side. To me, when people speak of what is mythical I oft laugh because (as a woman who has been reincarnated many times over the centuries, and who possesses full and detailed knowledge of and from each of her past lives)... I can recall the origins of many myths and the core truths that those myths were spun from. So, I have a bit of a different perspective on what is historical and what is mythical, and the fine line between the two. I have always said that if people knew the true nature of the gods they have revered since time beyond count... mayhap they would not revere them so highly. For some were merely physical beings not unlike people themselves! Many died and came back over the centuries in human forms, as I have and others like me have. But the important thing, is that such beings do exist in one form or another, and always have (and likely always will) for all of time. Time, for me, is a cycle and a cycle connected to other cycles both past and future. That is how I perceive time as being. All of the references, whether mythological and other in this poem are to things I have a deep and rather intimate knowledge of, not things I simply read about and found interesting... so there is a power in what I describe (that you noticed, no doubt), and that power comes from dark knowledge of many different kinds. Though naturally, I do encourage my readers to believe what they please, it is good to bear in mind that in this poem... nothing I wrote was without purpose and deeper meaning, and that purpose was to convey what was seen, heard, and felt during the events that I describe. Just so you know what I basically had intended by this poem, that is why I mention all these points. A lot of people write merely to entertain, but in this poem's case I wrote it to tell what happened to me during my near-death moment, both the good and the darkly bad of it.
So yes, it was (all of it) true, and I am happy you found it unique and intriguing also. It very much pleased me that you took the time to read the whole epic poem and comment. Your comment was very intelligent and well thought through, and I hope my further insight into what I wrote here is helpful to you and others who wish to read this work and understand it better. Ta for now!
P.S. Needless to say, following that experience, the goddesses Ishtar and Ereshkigal became my two primary patron goddesses. Patron goddesses are, for Wiccans, the same as how patron saints are for mainstream religion. I have two patron saints also: Joan of Arc and Saint Cecelia. Sophia is one aspect of how I view God... so She is not really a patron goddess as such but rather for me a mother goddess and the creator of my soul. Though the goddess Kali had a hand in my soul's creation as well, so to me she and Sophia are of the highest divinity. So yes, in a roundabout way... God is actually a woman, to my eyes. ;) As is God's shadow, that which some call the "Devil" but I have written of that elsewhere in other of my works. So it would be a tad bit beyond the scope of this poem's topics to discuss that here. At any rate, lest I digress, I hope this serves to help folks to understand things even clearer, regarding "Amongst the Dead". Love and Light! :D
Regarding the three aspects you spoke of...
1. The honesty is the core of the work, and it is something I am quite passionate about. All that I depict in this poem is what I *actually* saw and went through during the time (three minutes) when my soul was separated from my body. And though my time amongst the dead was only three minutes on this plane... in the realms beyond, it seemed I was gone for ages and thus the tone of the poem must be epic (which it is) in order to relate the entirety of what transpired in the realms beyond. This entire dark event had a profoundly powerful effect on my spirituality when I came back from it. It was, ironically, one of the things that made me embrace the Goth movement quite strongly not long thereafter. Indeed, it as an event that is a part of me still, and will likely always be. Such things are life changing, no matter how science or skeptics will try to dismiss such experiences and attempt to explain them. The short and simple truth is, they can neither be dismissed nor explained. They simply *are* and one is meant to be in awe of such awesome things. I never tell anyone else what to believe or how to believe... but I do find that freely talking about what I believe and what happened to me in life surrounding my spiritual experiences and things... all of that can serve to help others who may have been through similar events to see that they are not alone and not as unusual as they might have come to believe themselves to be. Everyone who goes through a near-death event of this magnitude, they go through a time when they feel alien because of it. Perhaps it is adjusting to the shift from body to spirit and then back to body again? I would imagine so. But whatever the reason, shared experiences are sometimes the best way to feel better about having had them.
2. I chose a classical way of telling the story of my near-death experience, because to me there simply was no other way to do justice to the sheer enormity and grandeur of what it consisted of. How else to speak of Heaven, Purgatory, and Hell itself except in a grand way? So it is good you noticed that classical aspect of the piece! When I went through that near-death experience, I had not yet read Dante or Milton, and I had not even begun to make nearly as extensive a study into history, myths, and legends as I did in the years following it. In fact, a large part of my later studies was to learn more about the beings and things I saw when I was dead for a time. Just to understand better, what happened and also why. I have no pre-conceived notions of Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory before that event... though since it took place, I have had a far clearer idea in my mind of what awaits us when we die. However, my soul really, quite literally *is* rather unique and somewhat strange, so what transpired for me might not be the same for others. Every soul is individual and different, after all. We aren't all formed from the same mold, so to speak. Or even from the same "maker"! But after reading Dante and Milton I came to see that what I went through was experienced or at least expressed by the beliefs of others down through the centuries... so I knew instantly that there was something more to it after all. And that something really changed my view of creation.
3. I merely related what I saw. The historical aspects, as well as the mythological, are all a part of what awaited me on the other side. To me, when people speak of what is mythical I oft laugh because (as a woman who has been reincarnated many times over the centuries, and who possesses full and detailed knowledge of and from each of her past lives)... I can recall the origins of many myths and the core truths that those myths were spun from. So, I have a bit of a different perspective on what is historical and what is mythical, and the fine line between the two. I have always said that if people knew the true nature of the gods they have revered since time beyond count... mayhap they would not revere them so highly. For some were merely physical beings not unlike people themselves! Many died and came back over the centuries in human forms, as I have and others like me have. But the important thing, is that such beings do exist in one form or another, and always have (and likely always will) for all of time. Time, for me, is a cycle and a cycle connected to other cycles both past and future. That is how I perceive time as being. All of the references, whether mythological and other in this poem are to things I have a deep and rather intimate knowledge of, not things I simply read about and found interesting... so there is a power in what I describe (that you noticed, no doubt), and that power comes from dark knowledge of many different kinds. Though naturally, I do encourage my readers to believe what they please, it is good to bear in mind that in this poem... nothing I wrote was without purpose and deeper meaning, and that purpose was to convey what was seen, heard, and felt during the events that I describe. Just so you know what I basically had intended by this poem, that is why I mention all these points. A lot of people write merely to entertain, but in this poem's case I wrote it to tell what happened to me during my near-death moment, both the good and the darkly bad of it.
So yes, it was (all of it) true, and I am happy you found it unique and intriguing also. It very much pleased me that you took the time to read the whole epic poem and comment. Your comment was very intelligent and well thought through, and I hope my further insight into what I wrote here is helpful to you and others who wish to read this work and understand it better. Ta for now!
P.S. Needless to say, following that experience, the goddesses Ishtar and Ereshkigal became my two primary patron goddesses. Patron goddesses are, for Wiccans, the same as how patron saints are for mainstream religion. I have two patron saints also: Joan of Arc and Saint Cecelia. Sophia is one aspect of how I view God... so She is not really a patron goddess as such but rather for me a mother goddess and the creator of my soul. Though the goddess Kali had a hand in my soul's creation as well, so to me she and Sophia are of the highest divinity. So yes, in a roundabout way... God is actually a woman, to my eyes. ;) As is God's shadow, that which some call the "Devil" but I have written of that elsewhere in other of my works. So it would be a tad bit beyond the scope of this poem's topics to discuss that here. At any rate, lest I digress, I hope this serves to help folks to understand things even clearer, regarding "Amongst the Dead". Love and Light! :D
14th Sep 2020 12:42pm
22nd Mar 2021 6:36am
I am happy to have been able to take you along on the journey, through this relating of what transpired during it. :)
