I stared in front of me, at a peculiar object that had no formality.
It was a bland wall, had no opening, nor space, just blank.
It was oddly amusing, trying to foresee beyond it, trying to see what could be the meaning behind it.
The wall had no writing, or drawings, no patterns, or carvings.
Staring blindly, I couldn't see.
"Change your perception, use a different sense"
The voice said.
Pressing my hands against it, resting my forehead on it, and closing my eyes.
I felt it
I heard the banging, the screaming, the blood spattering, the squealing, the gasping, the echos, the sounds crying out for help.
I heard the knife slashing and gun shooting, I heard it all.
I suddenly felt something jolt through my body, like an electric shock.
I landed hard, back first on the ground.
I saw it
I saw everything. EVERYTHING.
Waking up in a blanked out terror, I finally understood it.
It was me, in the form of my subconscious.
A metaphor of the desperate plead, cries, and help I call out to those that I love.
But, silent echos cannot whisper in the dark, and my voice cannot be heard.
SO, I suffer more, all by myself.
Yes, You can see the wall, but, if you choose not to listen to it, you won't see what's behind it, on the other side.
You choose to be misunderstanding.
You choose to be ignorant, and brain washed by lies.
But, if you actually took your own time and tried to feel the wall without any fear, maybe, just maybe, you would truly understand.
So, I stare at this bland wall, has no opening, no space.
But when I heard and saw what was on the other side, my perception changed.
A metaphor of my misunderstood soul.