One day, I remind myself, yesterday neglected to falter and
tomorrow you shall rise again! One day I tell myself there will be plenty of
days when one cannot concoct happiness into the pages she/he has written. One
day I confirm there are plenty more just like this one coming my way. Wouldn't
I engage to say that I would suffer this writer's depression of those many days
for the decades of success that await me? I plead with myself I need this
victory this win I have to claim as mine.
With every word flowing out as a
chaotic struggle to sound a bit above water, yet remaining under the brink of
solitude. IT bites at you and swiftly there is a quiet comforting voice in the
background whispering to you that tomorrow is another day and you will survive
this one so you may endure and enjoy the next one. I let myself know you have
become strong. Your weakness only make you exceed limits only you are aware of.
There is a beauty in this battle. A welcoming tone as the chime of the fight
begins, you are startled at first wondered where this potential victim came
from, you are your opponent.
You close your timid eyes wondering how quickly it
will be to take down that which is yourself, inevitably. Your stance in
position for a fair fistful. Were you obligated to take over this mortal enemy?
Was it possible to merely avoid the situation and forfeit the war that raged
among the heart and mind? Were you wise in your steps that you could so
carelessly shake hands and let that be it?
Did you take certain precautions that
would allow you to have a pass here?
Welcome to the Writer's Realm, fight for
your life, or rather your words!
Consisting of structures you wrote and once
loved silhouettes of images you portrayed, betraying you at every inch.
Bandages bleeding from the coursing in my veins I was a viper stinging in my
own thoughts. Poisoning the very thoughts that caused such a perfectionist
writer.
My vision of stories blank as blackboards. The wisdom of my elders
vanished as I took my first blow. Where were the faults I tried to correct? I
wanted to search in depth for the wise words I once lost.
There were mentions of talents long
forgotten.
The talent in which one grew like a plant that you watered and fed
daily of light and literature. I confessed to having that very plant grow
inside me once and now it had sprouted and took over the very being I called
home. I commenced the silence. It tries to steal the very soul I live in.
I followed in my own footsteps and alas won out among the
blood and tears of the fore comings. My bravery was a mighty win. My courage
rang clear as my words were set free. My mind finally at ease. My world at a
calm humble peace.
I stood on the podium, the day had finished with a stream of
cruelly words.
I was victorious.
