Raging mental war.
Waring mental illusions.
Voices. Loud voices. Violent voices.
Faces. Uncaring faces. Strange faces. Passing phases.
Peace. Be still. And void, without form. From substance to nothing emptiness.
All I ever wanted was peace, to be still from all the voices…harsh and condemning voices.
All I ever wanted was to pass to the other side, the fleeting phase of faces into nothingness.
But I was deceived, or so it seemed. For after the chaos and confusion is the cool, calm and collected face…telling me to face the storm, one day after the other.
I wonder how one could spark off and speak of such possibility, in unbelievable confidence. I asked how he dared utter such words of certainty in the unblinking eye of uncertainty.
He looked me in the eye and said, “I dare. For I am the Storm”.