Temple of Dead Gods

When you venture too far out into the sea never with an intention to return, when the fleeting horizon appears to get tiered of ever eluding every seeker, when thoughts start freezing in necessities fearsome chill, when hope starts taking laboured breath, you know you are close to the temple of dead gods.The waves stroking your vessel dies down, the guiding star is lost and so is every desire to go back to the world again. You put out every flame of aspiration, every hint of light from within, purge every memory. You offer your soul to the dark and then does the Island with temple of dead gods materialize.This is where every quest for an escape from life ends. This is where the quest for living death begins.

You no longer captain the vessel, the engines no longer hum. It is slowly sucked into an inconscient dark. In the dark around the island dead plants from the bottom of the ocean rise up higher than the sight can go. The laws of nature have given this place a miss. Huge swarms of fishes would crawl up the dead trees and cling on until they die breathless.In that moment between the end of life and approach of death every dying fish has a last enigmatic smile and casts a somber look on you.

The dead fishes are quickly reborn as they fall back into the dark ocean. They crawl up the tree to die again. Here the wheels of karma are no longer governed by time.

With your first step into the cloudy mass that makes the surface of the island, you are laid bare right to the hollow where your soul once resided. Everything ever made to protect you, to cover you is gone. Without your clothes and hair your body, without hope and love your heart and without time your existence all lie exposed to the play of possibilities. You do not feel nude, it appears you have worn nudity.The coherence of the body is gone. Every organ is the master of its own will. The body becomes the playground of the dark. Every emotion,every desire, every passion manifests and the body meekly obeys. Uninhibited tears,mischievous play of genitals, quivering of the limbs and a senseless beating of the heart. The desire to be a conqueror, the pain of a refuted lover, the joy of birth, the fear of death, the passion of fulfilled love all manifest together, fighting for your body. This does not end until all desires, all vitality has been fruitioned and have been lost. The Catharsis makes you pure for the temple.

From within the island there are no boundaries, there is no beyond. Time has long long been driven out of here, only the "Now" remains. An ever present, all encompassing now.Because the island is infinite it has no center. Its center is everywhere. Somewhere in this everywhere there is the temple of dead gods. Supported by dark clouds that cling to it with all their hands, the stairways to the door is made of dead divine virtues. The first few steps are made of compassion, probably compassion was the first to be sacrificed. After a laborious trip up the flight of steps made of compassion you reach the steps made of dead truth. Dark, ugly,mutilated truth lying bare on these steps. These were white marble stairs with marks of blood, as if it has trickled down not so long ago. After truth,beauty, joy, hope and love you reach the final step - the bare bosom of the earth. Infertile, soulless, hopeless.

There are no accounts of the inside of the temple. It is in a different dimension beyond what can be perceived and communicated.The fallen gods have many seekers and many come in the search of the temple. It is hard to say if they lived or died. It is my quest now. I see that the horizon has stopped receding and my hopes are deserting me. I am near. If I live through this, I promise to write what I saw in the temple.