The Hermit Chronicles: Castle Of Singularity

“…Disgusted at the guilt or absurdity of Mankind, the Misanthrope flies from it: He resolves to become a Hermit, and buries himself in the Cavern of some gloomy Rock…” – Matthew Gregory Lewis, The Monk
seattlestravels

I existed alone, in a little cave of nowhere, and was quite content to be exactly where I didn’t know. Gladly retiring to my castle of singularity, I sensed others, not prowling, but curious of my existence. I hid quietly, waiting for them to pass by like so many times before, but then the rustling stopped, the leaves breathlessly announcing a turn in the path leading to me. The steps crunched closer and my hiding place is revealed. I’ve discovered many places to hide, and in spite of my camouflage, there I’m found. I don’t want them to find me, I want to remain secluded, my resources won’t support their hunger and thirst. No matter how I try, they come. With desires no man can tame, they press me out of my comfort, pushing me to give a portion of myself. What is it about a man who desires no pleasure of company, that lures so many to invite themselves to just that, his company? The more I push and pull from society, the more curiosity I inspire. Can’t they just pass by and stop following me down these endless circling, rocky paths? Only to lay on me the guilt of their choice saying, “You never looked out for us, you led us down the wrong path”. Turn back little ones, fair maidens, here in this dark cave lies great desire, desire that will fuel the pain of loss, for only when you desire much can your hopes be dashed against the longing, when all you sought disappears in the dark once again.

05102013
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Hidden

“Camouflage is a game we all like to play, but our secrets are as surely revealed by what we want to seem to be as by what we want to conceal.”Russell Lynes  


darkjinn

Cloaks, shields, cover for you.

Duck, run, defense for you.
Leaves they blend with your skin
Camouflage from within.
Scent not your own,
Voice unknown.
Scant you appear.
Leaning away in fear.
Shadows, darkness to confuse
Who can know you, when hiding is your muse?

Also published in Broowaha Magazine

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