by Krishna Rose
An assembly of bare-skinned girls and lionhearted men approached. They were not human, more angelic. They seemed fascinated as to how we had entered their territory, floating suspended in the sky mysteriously, hovering beyond the edge of the mountain. So far above the ground they were, that the clouds were only just above their heads, close, like the roof of a house. My motherly instinct was to worry for their safety, for most surely they played at such a height, between life and death—dangerously. ‘Worry not, for we are angels of God,’ they explained dreamily, sending thoughts into my mind without saying a word.
The girls were desirable, with soft fleshy bodies and dazzling velvety skin. While the virile men were powerfully built, valiant like the bravest of warriors. Parading themselves unusually, with their privates uncovered for all to see, they writhed suggestively. At first I was startled by a rush of arousal, for in their desire to sip from pleasure’s cup, lust emitted an intoxicating enchantment into the air, captivating me in a snare of misplaced love.
Understanding the truth of the second veil’s challenge—lust—I turned my head from them, not out of shame, but out of sadness to see them believing that liberty and empowerment meant to shed one’s chastity and morals. This concept was of grave concern to me. Filled with deep regret, confused as to why God’s angels would abandon chastity, tears fell from my eyes. The urge to take pleasure in sex is a natural one, yet forfeiture of self-respect is never a divine feminine trait. Therefore, I was baffled by it. Whether for money, fame, or love—a woman’s sovereignty would be ravaged if society ever allowed such a thing as immorality. ‘That’s the power of lust,’ I thought.
Then I saw them—prisoners. Tethered in chains by their feet, hands, and necks to the side of the mountain, the entire rock face was stacked, one convict above and next to another, while the wildly free warriors and maids soared the skies, enticing the felons with their provocative wiles. Moving their bodies in all manner of ways, the bare-skinned beauties tantalized one another in progressively lascivious acts of sexuality, while the swarm of captive souls watched, unable to satisfy their urges—wishing, if for but a moment, they could participate.
I could feel their hankerings. More than anything they hungered to touch and experience the thrill of unrequited pleasure. Yet bound by their carnal crimes, which in life they had chiseled, the prisoners stirred, but were left frustrated by lust’s dissatisfaction.
The girls promised to fill a need in them—empty promises. For in all but a moment, their peachy skin shriveled and dried up, while the warriors morphed into emasculated, scrawny old men. All beauty was gone from them in an instant. Though they were now skeletal, still the decrepit men wanted sex from the now aged women who had plainly transformed into decaying hags, grotesquely gnarled and shrunken.
“Pluck out my eyes!” the captives shouted, agonized by the deceptions of their flesh. Unfulfilled desire drove them senseless and I pitied them, for their appetites were the cause of their bondage. Sex was meant to bring them freedom, but degraded and unhindered, it had brought about their downfall and certain ruination. The men cried out, realizing the cause of their misery. But lust clung to them like honey to a honeycomb.
An immensely tall woman came among them. Commandingly, she dismissed the orgy. The prisoners groaned, whimpering in their damnable state, as the angels disappeared from sight. The sky turned blood red with the sudden onset of darkness. Strewn with menacing vultures awaiting their next meal, the atmosphere became tense, as the predators circled overhead, longing to partake of a meal—dead or alive.
I was uncomfortably hot as the woman approached me, a cascade of flame red hair covering her naked, curvy body. I could sense her wide, deep-set eyes bearing down on me, searching for recognition—she seemed familiar. My mind unanticipatedly filled with questions, as she bobbed slightly above the ground in front of me. We laid eyes on one another—assessing, examining—understanding.
“Mary, what you are witnessing here, is your own soul trapped in the warm embrace of the flesh,” she said, reaching for me like a mother to a child. Pulling me to her, I felt the warmth of amity between us, and wondered if this woman might be my own mother. I stepped back, startled, could this be the moment I had yearned for since birth?
Instantly the woman transformed into a peculiar stream of disguises—like an actor playing multiple characters at every moment. Melding visions came and went, one after the other, men and women, young and old—some of them horrible and filled with misery. Recognizing each of them instantly, I at once felt overwhelming joy at my reunion with them, yet was also simultaneously tormented by a slew of unceasing grief when they disappeared from my sight. My soul sickened.
“These are the many lives of your soul wrapped inside assorted blankets of flesh,” she said invitingly, her flame-like natural tresses blazing against the sky. She had a quiet ease about her that lit up everything in a distinctly warm and comforting luster—like autumnal season.
The condemned, who I had all but forgotten, roused by her nakedness, began calling to her suggestively—once again yearning to satisfy their excitement. At once she flew into a volcanic rage, soaring towards the chained delinquents. Her serene demeanor in a flash had transformed, and the prisoners shrieked, terrified, when with the flick of her hand, the vultures surged forward to pluck out their lusty eyes. The evil things these men had brought about, now robed them in misery, for she cared nothing for them.
“I make no apology for my behavior! For I am without doubt fulfilling a sacred duty by removing the marrow of your hankerings!” she howled, as the rabid birds lurched headlong towards them.
Gnashing teeth tore flesh from bone, while their razor-sharp talons clawed out their eyes. Deserving just punishment, the beasts of prey mercilessly ripped at the living dead. Their screams and struggles tugged at my heart, seizing me with compassion. I said a prayer to God, as a sickening sweep of terror took hold of them. I closed my eyes, lids clenched together, until after some time, the massacre stopped, and the sound of hundreds of birds’ wings could be heard fleeing the scene—having had their fill. Only then did I reopen them.
The curious woman casually wafted through the air, threatening more suffering if she heard one more sound out of them.
And they obeyed—petrified. Approaching me, her luxuriant hair spread-eagled, draped over her nakedness loosely, “Forgive me, Mary,” she said apologetically, the pallor of her countenance dusted with sorrow. The oppressive atmosphere had thrown an embarrassed silence aloft, cloaking us in awkwardness. Our eyes locked, and forthwith, in rapid succession, again the molding and melding memories of times passed began shifting and changing from second to second—though her gaze remained constant.
Scores of births and deaths inundated my memory and I found myself yearning for multitudes of family members gone, taken by death from me repeatedly. “These are the charmed masks of your soul’s never-ending existence, Mary,” she said, as the faces of my past repeatedly lured me, running through my mind, appearing and disappearing faster than the blink of an eye.
“What you are witnessing, are the limitless stories of your former lives. Consumed by a need for union, you have trapped your soul in the flesh for centuries. Intent on promises of fulfillment, your insatiable search for love, forced one set of circumstances to another to come about. Yet despite such great efforts in the struggle to attain what you sought after, you did not find the love or security for which you yearned. Each attempt to eradicate the emptiness you felt inside, only further isolated your soul from its source.
“Lifetimes filled with wanton pleasure have cleaved the living spirit from freedom, while the illusions of fleshly existence slay our relations and friends again and again . . . leaving us lonely, confused and grief-stricken. Yet even so, we have remained ignorant of our own slavery. Like a prisoner in chains, we have been driven from one life
to the next since time immemorial—in our search for a reunion.”
In each set of eyes I saw lessons reflected back to me. The cold, stark reality of existence—death always faced alone. As it was for all our predecessors.
“No one can avoid this tragic reality, Mary. Therefore this lesson is invaluable. People have for the longest time been enamored by a mere reflection of the eternal reality, while the search for steadfast love and approval has unknowingly made a prisoner of them.
“Having accepted the familiarity of worldly sleep for a few silken pleasures, people deny themselves satiety, indulging in the fruits of mortal fantasy. Trapped, the spirit has lived in the realm of addiction, longing to relieve the emptiness within. Yet in spite of having filled the body, the soul is yet starved. Even so, the inner-thirst that drives you, is nevertheless still unquenched.”
I could feel the drone of flesh’s heavy shackles upon me and shuddered at the realization of how empty I was—like a malnourished animal. It was glaringly apparent that so much time had been stolen from me, yet still I was spinning in my need to find fulfillment. I perceived the blank space within, which had left me wedded to ordinary indulgence, and, dragged to the floor by the weight of my grief, depressed—I realized the cause of all my sufferings.
“The longing you recognize, is due to separation from your Creator. This ache can only be filled and eternally satisfied by your reunion with Him,” she explained, her face still morphing from moment to moment, making it difficult for me to look upon her, yet at the same time impossible to look away. Her gaze remained firm. The words she spoke rang true. They resonated with my soul.
Cold with longing, hollow from mournful tragedy, I watched, as one by one, I lost children, friends, parents, husbands and wives. The same sad tears, wept repeatedly. I was unsettled by the finality of each futile attempt to hold onto love, which, like dust, dispersed in the wind, leaving me disinherited, friendless, and destitute.
“Impermanence brings with it much suffering. Yet in spite of it, we attach ourselves to it, forgetful of the constant passing from one life to the next. Our bodies bring with them, destruction of all things we believe to be real and permanent, while the ever-present soul within, which is never slain—remains. It is indestructible, eternal and ever present,” she said smoothly.
Overwhelmed and teary-eyed, I waved away my illusions, which had left me forlorn and so full of sorrow.
“Rip yourself open, daughter of Eve!” she commanded. “Rise up on the altar of your purity, that all may triumph and flourish by your wisdom. Worship directed towards God, imbued with devotion, is the only means of uprooting all that has beguiled your passion. Without these two ingredients, you will forever be defenselessly pulled, by force, into nets, where your spirit is thrown and caught in the web of glitter and gold which provides no seed of contentment to anyone. So take off your veils. It is time Mary . . . let them go!” she implored.
As if bitten by the truth of her words, my silhouettes tumbled like masks to the ground, one on top of the other—all the profitless pleadings of lives spent searching. Each disguise—a veneer. Layer upon layer of untruth, discarded. My emotions ran high, as in quick succession I relinquished my bonds of friendship, loyalty, possessiveness, and attraction. Cutting loose the ties which had bound me. The blood, sweat, and tears, of skin fell to the ground, shattering the kiss of my illusions.
“The labors of the mind and body, untarnished by reward seeking, must always have a place of focus. Therefore renounce and devote your purpose unto the Lord’s exclusive pleasure—which is the doorway to salvation. Having fixed faith, which neither wavers in the wind, nor quivers in the cold—offer the totality of your time unto the will of the divine—understanding that all power, love, and satisfaction, come from that fount of truth. By concentrating exclusively upon our search and need for the Greater Power, who is the cause of all existence, we are intimately reunited with our Creator. Then and only then, is your lonely search thwarted forever.
“Just as a flute surrenders to the empty space inside, yet also to the will of the one playing upon it, so too is this teaching the portal by which the soul releases itself from bondage. Understand that those persons who fear hearing the truth of these instructions, are again and again dragged by the current of countless deaths—while those who are wise, faithful, and sincere, who with great love apply what has been said, can easily obtain everlasting happiness.”
“Please tell me, what is eternal freedom? What does it look like?” I asked, feeling pleasantly relieved of my burdens after having witnessed the masks of my deception melt into the ground.
“The Kingdom is the penultimate destination. Once attaining eternal life, you will finally have your craving satisfied by relationships that are unending. Filled with extreme joy, death will never come, and your soul will partake in everlasting happy encounters,” she said, a glimmer twinkling behind her mesmerizing blue eyes.
“How can I ask people to renounce desire?” I asked earnestly. “It seems impossible to me—for the human being aches for pleasure at every moment!”
“Fear not, for I shall explain it to you, for your benefit. Pursuit of fulfillment in the flesh is the pursuit of the less intelligent, as no material goal can free one from birth or death. Nor can it bring satisfaction of the self. Your question is appropriate, as pleasure is not something which can be given up artificially. But pleasure correctly aimed—brings us freedom.
“Once a person decides upon ageless, undying liberation, they can no longer be a slave to glamour, sensuality or possessions. Offering all enjoyment unto the Almighty, repenting, and begging for mercy, those who are intelligent, call out to the Lord and His messengers. Being blessed, they are then quickly released from the prison of neglect.”
The flame-haired woman disappeared from my sight and a fresh breath of hope filled me with optimism. The High-Priest took my hand in his, in a fatherly gesture. “Come,” he said tender-heartedly, returning us to the two oak trees. The roots of the trees, like snakes, hung in the air above us, writhing, while the trunks stood tall, like sentinels.
The High-Priest lay an ornate mask in my hand. “Keep this as a reminder,” he said, understanding how grateful I was for these transcendent lessons—for I would be altered by them forever.
Never had I stopped to notice just how tired I was of mortality’s shadow of joy. Having faced the truth of existence, by this wisdom, which has power to offer protection from misfortune, I pledged to help others free themselves of the shackles which have them bound in so many places and in so many ways.
CHAPTER 33
HELL—VEIL THREE
Malignant mean-spiritedness may give you the gall to curse another out of resentment for their beauty or success. But know this—by the sin of such maleficence, without a candid declaration of your mistakes, you are not freed from the burden of your offense. The antidote to the poison of envy—is having gratitude for what you have.
“Do not be afraid to confront yourself Mary, for the weaknesses you see, are in all. Until transcendence is complete, we are all patients masked by our sin,” the High-Priest reminded me.
I was in that place where the eye does not see—drifting on the current of a fast flowing river. Not resisting its strength or power, knowing the importance of whatever I was here to face, I was prepared to look upon all aspects of the creation by virtue of my soul. A narrow, yet mighty waterfall ahead, forcibly carried me towards it, on its current. At first I had thought to swim against its tide, but it was futile, for the water carried me where it willed.
In a flash, the frothy cascade had dragged me into its fold. My lungs burned with longing to breathe. The chaos of the mighty waters churned me in a convulsive mania, so much so, that for a moment I could not see or feel anything but the desire to live.
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nbsp; Thrown down, I began sinking. Though I endeavored to swim upward, my legs were like weights, drawing me deeper and deeper beneath the watery depths. I was comfortably numb. The darkness held me in its clutch. I knew I was drowning.
With eyes wide open, suspended, a number of large underwater sea ships came into view. They seemed to be transporting prisoners—naked and bloody. Their seared, exposed flesh, nerves, and bone—like skinned animals, hung on by threads. The ships’ keels were shaped like inverted sharks fins, fashioned of wood beams which ran horizontally from the bow to the stern.
Hanging on ropes and chains, crowded, the mortally wounded slaves were piled together on the underside of the ships’ chassis. Gripping on for dear life, whilst treading water, they peddled with their legs in wheel-like motions beneath the ships’ hull. Bodies upon bodies crammed on top of each another like seeds in a pomegranate.
Then it all went blank. I panicked, wondering if I had died. As my senses returned, gasping for breath, loyal to existence and faithful at the last, I praised the Lord with my first gulp of air, finding myself in a cheerless location that smelled rank.
Upon reaching land, I dragged myself ashore, my heavy wet robes stained red from the shipwrecked bloody dead scattered on all sides of me. An icy-cold fear ran down the center of my spine, as I paid heed to my surrounds. A quagmire of decaying corpses had fenced me in. I would have to clamber over them if I were to escape. The dark bloody waters tossed me about in their waves, attempting to drag me back down into the depths. Heaving and grasping for land, I determinedly scaled flesh, blood and bone to reach shore.
“Here Mary,” the High-Priest’s familiar voice called to me, as he held out his hand, helping me to my feet. “Are you alright?” he asked, wrapping a cloak over my frozen body. I nodded, gasping for air, relief washing over me as I stumbled forward, shivering.