Philosophical Musings - Part XXVII

A Stranger Knocks on the Door



As I lay there
In the warm embrace of my veil
The air suddenly turns frigid
Chills tingle up my spine

I hear a knock on the door
So soft, almost like a chime
So methodical, almost like the
Sands of Time

The veil of Ignorance
Is ripped to shreds
And what is left
Is something awkward?

For who is the visitor
That knocks?
A hooded, shrouded figure
That offers the sweet temptation of Finality

A sense of panic
Courses through my entire body
As I shudder and wake up drenched in fear
What is the meaning of this?

I run away
Grasping at the tattered remains of the veil
But how long can I flee?
And where is the haven that I seek?