The approximate length for this essay is 3 pages, but mine is 4. Please help with making it more succinct, and if there are any grammar errors, please tell me. Thank you.
Along a flight, down towards hell by the Great Cliff of Zion, Shakespeare and his poet friend see a serene waterfall amidst the dark terrain. As they descend toward the barren ground of the forest, they see towering mirror gates across an antiquated wooden bridge. In the midst of air, arises a dimensional entity that both the poets are fond of: Socrates. Transfixed in his wooden seat, he decides if one shall pass and see the sinners that sojourn. The poets notice that the mirrors show everyone as the same dull reflection and then a peculiar thing occurs: the poets must answer a clever riddle in order to pass the towering gates. With faith and fortune, they properly answer the riddle and pass.
As the foreboding forest looms past them, they see the CONFORMISTS, and just how in life they denied God's gift of individuality having changed who they were in mind & soul, so they are removed from his warmth and are faceless. As they blindly followed leaders in life, so they are forced to comply with the demon's wishes; if one does not, then all must suffer harrowing pain in the thorny vineyard which is symbolic of their sin. The poet is then tempted to sin (symbolic of his guilt), but Shakespeare urges him to put faith in the Holy Spirit, for she will purify him of his wicked thoughts. She does when she descends from Heaven's lights.
The poets pass on to another fosse, as they see a vineyard with the agonizing screams of the Nazi's: those who blindly followed Adolf Hitler, for they believed he was their faithful savior who would shine light upon their life, giving them prosperity. Having done so, they committed mass genocide, leaving the souls of innocent Women and children to perish in cruel ways. Here, they must be faceless and endure agonizing pain in the vineyard of which they are incased. Having gotten consent from Shakespeare, Dante speaks with these sinners and portrays his thoughts on them in a poetic way.
The Nazis writher in pain, having heard the poet's sharp words, but wishes for the poet to portray their fame on earth. The poet's pride, however, relinquishes them of their pleas. As he leaves the unforgiving forest with Shakespeare to whence they came, the poet no longer sees a dull reflection in the mirrors, but sees himself, since he overcame his sin. In the end, the poets come upon a philosophical thought: will time tell if society can heed their advice, or will they be cast away into the dark abyss here, where god's light does not shine?
As I and Shakespeare wistfully traversed down the flight towards Hell by the Great Cliff of Zion, a tranquil and serene water fall slowly trickled down, sparkling brilliantly amidst the dark terrain. It would bring euphoria to anyone seeing its sight, but as time would only tell, a glimpse of the forest to come would turn this into a grotesque scene.
As we trotted along the cold forest ground, we had noticed towering mirror gates across a long wooden bridge. Then what we saw was not of truth, for in the midst of air, formed a dimensional entity of oddly form. I turned to my guide and asked, "Is that a philosopher of which I know?" "He is Socrates; he resides here for in life he was against conformity, so here he judges the conformists, and deems worthy of people who wish to pass the gates and see the sinners that reside," said Shakespeare.
As Socrates came into view, I was met with a question: "What fortune brings this rosy-skinned earthly being here? Has the times of sands turn a sill for him, who is sentenced to eternal punishment?" Shakespeare answered: "he wishes to obtain wisdom from these sinners, to pass onto earth."
"If the poet wishes to pass," said Socrates with a cat's clever grin, "he must answer an age-old riddle. The riddle is: if you bringeth a leader to a group, will it be just for the group to act like blinded sheep, or shall they go the cricket's way and use cleverness to outsmart the leader?"
Both Shakespeare and the poet answered with the cricket's way, and Socrates let them pass. As the poet came up to the mirror gates, he saw a gray, lifeless reflection of himself-- Chills went down his spine. As they walked along the barren forest ground, they were met with a terrifying sight: faceless men and women tangled together in a green vineyard, feeling the excruciating pain of their conscious mind. If one sinner did not comply with the wishes of the demon guarding them, then all would moan in unison agony.
Seeing discontent in the poet's eyes, Shakespeare said in a soothing voice: "I know you worry of being cast here, for you have conformed in life, but rest assure, these sinners reside here for they changed who they were in mind and soul, forsaking God's gift of individuality, believing they needed guidance in life. You have the chance to repent, and by having faith in Christ, you will not see the dark light of this abyss.
"My guide, I will heed your advice, as I believe it will bring great fortune and bliss into my life, having witnessed the agony that the conformists have to endure for eternity," said the poet. As they walked over the dead leaves strewn on the ground, with the howling wind blowing past them, something peculiar happened. "My guide, my mind has fallen down a dark path, for I cannot see God's light, what is happening to me?" asked the poet. "The blasphemy of this sanctuary has affected you deeply, for you have tempted to conform and must endure a punishment," said Shakespeare.
"You must call upon the Holy Spirit, for it will obscure you of your senseless thoughts and make your heart as pure as that of an innocent child in the midst of a beautiful autumn day, if you want to end your pain. As a man of morale, you should stay strong, for it is a virtue."
A beautiful sound arose in the gray forest that we were in: the arrival of the Holy Spirit who heard my prayers. As she descended down the Great Cliff and past the tranquil fall, all Hell's sinners were awe struck and speechless in fear. As she came near me, she said, "Let my energy of love flow through you, as it will cleanse you of wickedness and you will be anew." She then departed to the Heavens, and I felt sane once more. "My guide, I put my life in your hands now for our bond of trust is strong," said the poet.
The moaning sounds of the forest taunted us, as we walked along the path with dead leaves crackling beneath our feet with withering light. Then, all things were silent for we only heard our own steady breaths as we came upon a terrifying view that still haunts me today: a vineyard extracted from beauty with faceless sinners tangled upon one another, screaming with excruciating pain as their conscious minds dissipated into nothiness.
"My guide," I cried, "Who are these faceless souls?" Shakespeare said, "These are the Nazis, who were led by a disturbed individual named Adolf Hitler, who blind to reality, denounced the Israelites of being the root cause of Germany's Economic turmoil.
Without a slightest protest, the Nazis truly believed Hitler would shine light upon their path and give them prosperity as a branch, to grow. His image resonated with them as that of a faithful savior. These blinded followers committed mass genocide, leaving the souls of women and children to perish in uncivilized, cruel ways."
"My guide, do not deny me to speak with these sinners, for I wish to portray my philosophy to them." "Since what you ask is worthy of cause, I permit you to do as you please," said Shakespeare. Letting go my fear, I entered the vineyard, and summoned a sinner to speak with me.
"You shall wither in this sanctuary for what you did in life
Something inescapable is lost
Lost like a pale vapor curling up into shafts of moonlight,
Vanishing in a gust of wind, immeasurable and void.
I speak of the souls that are devoid of tears
I speak of the souls whose cries cannot be heard amidst the silent fall
I speak of the souls whose dreams you relinquished at the tip of your hand
There are little left of them, but their agonizing screams will resonate with me forever.
A beautiful field of roses is lost and only angels can calm them, thanks to your doing. Can you justify your cause?"
The sinner said, "I cut their wings, and did not let them have the freedom of flying, for my fuheres words ringed a chime within me. Ashes to ashes dust to dust I say, for your words do not spark a change within me. Make amends with the world to know my name and my brethren as well. Leave now, you pitiful fool, and may you get lost in the dark forest, and feel the strife I feel."
As both Shakespeare and I stepped back, the conformist was stretched from limb to limb by the thorny vines, and convulsed in indignation and agony as his face vanished within.
And so Shakespeare and I walked out of the vineyards which caused us internal grief, and as we hesitantly walked towards the towering mirrors, I noticed a peculiar thing: I saw a vivid reflection of my true self, and an overwhelming sense of joy rushed through me. We then went back from whence we came, past the dark terrain, past the tranquil and serene waterfall and its beauty, and up the Great Cliff of Zion, forever leaving this dark abyss which has no truth in faith, but only that of certain misery.
Yet, a peculiar thought came to bear on our hearts: "O Time! Thou who puts its hand on sorrow's wound, will thou show hope at last for my bitter tears that today's children will peacefully smile today and not conform to society's will, or will thou shower upon unforgiving rain, showing that the rosebuds of hope will die today, portraying that our society is doomed to reside here, among the dark vineyards?"
Lest we put faith in Christ, our Lord, that the children of society will see the brighter side and not give in, to the soulless dark.