Soul Cycle

Another hazy night. Another cold night. Another dark night. And the difference? It felt as if the darkness had consumed my every emotions. I felt nothing. The full moon shone its yellow glow. It's glorious with its own glow. But I couldn't see any stars at all due to the haze. What I felt instantly after recognizing the starless state was my own emptiness. Perhaps I was not a moon person, for I could not connect my soul with the beauty of the full moon. My soul felt more in tune with the dark, starless night sky. Like the stars that I couldn't see, my soul felt empty. Overshadowed by the lurking darkness. I wondered if the full moon was shining its yellow glow due to the invisible stars.

I closed my eyes and let my soul drifted away. I kept chanting my dislikes toward my emotional state at the time. Soon, I heard a distant voice telling me that I needed it. "Be empty, so that I can fill your soul with fresh emotions." I was stunned. Those words made me lose my ability to think in several minutes. Maybe I needed it in a way. But it didn't mean that I liked the process. For emptiness was the darkest state that I had ever experienced, and merely experiencing emptiness once made me feel like I could not face another. But here I was. Drowned in the darkness. I was drowned too deep, and I could not feel any lights penetrating this darkness. As if there was any tiny speckle of light somewhere.

It seemed like the full moon symbolized the distant light that I saw in the darkness. But alas, my soul felt like it was too far for my reach. Or perhaps the darkness was shielding my soul from the light. If I let myself bask in the rays, maybe it would enlighten me. Just tiny amount of rays from the moonlight might fill up my soul with fresh emotions. And when the stars would finally be visible again, perhaps my soul would glow with fresh emotions. Perhaps this darkness would not last forever. Perhaps the light might be able to penetrate this shield someday. And the cycle of my soul would go on like this within its own pace. A cycle of a soul was not all that pleasant, but every passage of this cycle must happen.