Have we been blinded by reality?

Asked the Wise Master

The violence of a reality that sends tremors down the nerves 

To spark and catch alight.

Our eyes on fire.

Or, says the Wise Master

Have we been blinded by the dream of wanting,

Yearning to see the future-

A blinding by hope?


The pupil felt slippery and wet as he moved

Between the threads of time

His head sinking into itself

He then looked to the future and couldn’t decipher

Where his vision was taking him

Which was the delusion- hope or reality?

He closed his eyes and felt at peace

Delusion was a game of waiting

He preferred being blind



The Wise Master picked himself clean off his bones

Placing the wires and cogs of his inner workings

Into a cabinet to be kept safe

Locking the wooden box and putting the key on his tongue

He could now have a clear vision

His eyes washed clean from his unselfing

A baptism of light and air

He could now touch the Gods.

He could now be still and wait

He could now hope for darkness



Who did the Wise Master meet

When the Wise Master was both more and less of himself?

What did the Wise Master see

When his self was locked away?

The pupil opened his eyes to find the Wise Master naked

And cradled upon the hard brick floor

He dressed him gently and took him to the balcony for a cigarette

What was your vision?

The pupil asked

The Wise Master was silent

You can tell me

Said the Pupil

The Wise Master started crying and murmured

I lost it

The pupil held his Wise Master

The answer now needed to be found again

Which was delusion- hope or reality?



23012020_Chariklia Martalas_TheWiseMaster

Chariklia Martalas is a Philosophy, Politics, English and History graduate from the University of the Witswatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa. Her work has been featured in Rigwelter Press, Isacoustic, The Raw Art Review, Loch Raven Review, Bending Genres and the undergraduate literary journal The Foundationalist. Her work is forthcoming in Drunk Monkeys.

Cover Photo Credit: Kylie Supski