I lie on the cold, bare stone of a dark dungeon. The stale air is heavy
and pungent with
the odor of my body’s filth.
Lice infest my hair and beard. At first I scratched until my skin
was raw, but I have disciplined
myself to tolerate the irritant. I long to bathe, but I receive
no water to wash myself.
I am bound by strong chains that restrict my movement. The chains
used to rub and chafe my
wrists and ankles, but my skin has become hard and calloused. There
is musty straw on which
for me to lie, but its foulness sickens me. My only companions are
hungry rats. In the beginning
of my imprisonment their presence revolted and angered me,
but I have come to enjoy
their company. Still, I would not miss them if freedom was mine.
The physical discomforts of my imprisonment are no longer of much concern
to me. Nonetheless,
the terrible darkness enshrouding
me is suffocating. The pitch blackness is maddening, but I
will not succumb to it.
Even when my guards, bearing hot torches, come to bring my meager
food and to taunt me, even
then all is darkness, for my eyes were put out long ago. In this
blackness I have no concept
of how much time has elapsed. Time is nothing to me anymore,
except the prolonging of
my misery.
I sleep, wrapped in the great chains that secure me. I try to keep from
going to sleep
because most of my dreams
are filled with pain and sorrow. I dream of being seized by
many hands and being bound,
as I futilely strive to defend myself. I dream of being beaten
by my enemies and spit upon
by those who hate me. I dream of seeing those two white-hot
brands being slowly pushed
into my eyes as I endure the agony. I dream of the awful pain
following with no physician
to tend to my wounds. I dream of the pitch blackness with its
unseen voices mocking me.
Some of my dreams are filled with joy. Those are the dreams of my once
beloved Delilah.
Never was a woman as lovely
nor ever one as ravishing. Her beautiful presence filled me with
wonder and her gentle touch
swelled my soul with excitement. Delilah’s lips were sweeter
than nectar and her arms
softer than velvet. The fragrance of her silky, black hair was
intoxicating and the fine
lines of her gorgeous figure left me in awe. Her company was my
greatest joy; strong was
my love for her. She was my happiness and I wished to be with
her always.
I remember when I was the strongest and most feared man in all the land.
My exploits
of strength and endurance
were known far and wide. My enemies trembled at the mention of my
name and I destroyed those
who opposed me. I killed ferocious beasts with my bare hands and
in one day I slew thousands
without the use of a sword. But in my arrogance I betrayed myself.
My long locks of hair, the
source of my great strength, were shorn from my head. I was bound
and made a pitiful spectacle
by those who hate me. I was tortured and condemned to spend
the rest of my life in this
black hole.
My hair has grown long again and tremendous strength has returned to me.
I have tested my
chains and it would be nothing
for me to snap them loose. But, then, what could I do without
my sight? Without my eyes
I am as helpless as when my locks were cut. Even if I freed
myself from these metal
bonds, I would still be bound by the chains of darkness. The blackness
holds me in its awful grip
as tight as if I was held in a giant fist. It’s a heavy blanket clinging
to every part of me, as
it threatens to engulf my very soul. I long to free myself from its grip,
but I am powerless to do
so.
I used to have many dreams, but now I have only one wish: to be released
from the clutches
of this unending blackness.
The frustration of my dark dilemma weighs on me like a mountain
on my shoulders. It threatens
to crush me as a man squashes an insect. Life in this nightmare
is more like death than
life. My desire to live is strong, but perhaps, perhaps I am dead already.
I breathe, I eat,
and I feel, but is this life? Maybe this is my hell! Am I condemned to
endure
the rest of eternity longing
for release from this blindness, only to never achieve that freedom?!