Always too quiet in here for my liking. Perhaps this will stir others to creative pursuits... or not LOL.
There is a black beast of a most terrifying aspect which resides everywhere, inside and around me. At once, shapeless and without form, yet so massive it is possessed of its own soul crushing gravity. It looms, mountainous above the landscapes of my mind and casts its darkening shadow from there out into the light of reality. Ravenous and insatiable, it seeks to devour any shred of goodness and light, to prevent any thought or emotion from taking flight from underneath the ponderous weight of its grasping, greedy claws. Uncaring and unkind, it has been with me from the beginning and seems determined to remain long after my spark is extinguished.
With effort, with concentrated force of will, the beast can be chained for a time. So subdued, it may even deign to rest, but it never sleeps, and it never ceases its gluttonous pursuit of any positive spark. Inexorably, contentment, safety and reason are drawn into its vortex and the cavernous voids within remain in impenetrable, tenebrous blackness.
Its voice is ever present. Like flowing water, it is relentless and it erodes the very foundations of the firmament of my being. When chained, it is a droning, monotone reminder that the beast never slumbers. It is a ringing in my ears, a mechanical hum inside my brain. Its ceaseless susurrations lap like waves against the shores of my sanity and exert their tidal draw towards bottomless depths of despair upon me.
When exhaustion borne of frustration allows my vigilance to lapse even just a little, the beast roars into life. The murmurs and whispers crescendo as previously serene waters crash thunderously upon themselves. A desperate, keening wail rises within the tempest and is not quelled until the beast is satiated.
In quiet tyranny, it will lay for a time. Satisfied that I remain helpless and hopeless beneath its weight, that I have resigned myself to feeding it, that there is no danger that our wretched forms may be illuminated, we settle into the cold comfort of each other’s company.
Now a decision is to be made. The beast will not remain satisfied, despite the constant feeding. It will begin to crave more and more and more, and in its hunger it will descend into ferocious madness once again. Alternatively, I can summon the will to stand and cast the beast down once more. I can pray and ask God to deliver me from its evil and lead me once again to still waters.
Steadfast and reliable, He does so in His own way and in His own time. Though He never sees fit to allow me to slay the beast or cast off its yoke entirely, there is always respite and hope for eventual freedom. In that hope, a small flame is kindled, its fitful, flickering light defiant in the face of despair...
...intended to continue as inspiration allows
