This battle grows, I am not winning, but have not lost............................
The Unwelcome Companion
Cruel unwelcome companion,
He twists his wicked blade, embedded it in my neck when I saw him not. Spreading the fire like lightning coursing it's searing path. The lull will come, but he is never gone, The dull aching burn, circling like a storm in the distance, never leaving, but ready to strike with force again when least expected.
He has taught me compassion I thought I knew. Empathy and understanding for any who feel his constant assault. I know this companion now, and can see his reflection in others eyes, can feel their dispare at a fight they have lost. Yet I will stay the twist of his blade as long as I am able. I do not wish the dispare that dims the vision I see in those that have borne his company for longer than I.
I know the path of his desire, to slay all desire.......He will steal in small pieces when you do not notice, one small piece at a time. Until one day you notice he has left but a shell of your bright inner fire, and left ashes where there were branches and roots.
I swear to myself that this will not be my fate, but I weary of the battle with a enemy with no face, whose blade I can not parry, for he is the shadow that hides, and wages his attack from behind. Where to find the strength to wage a battle, to feed the inherent ability to heal myself, when my energy is already drained from months that feel like years, and still no gain to show?
And now I find I have been seduced back into the arms of a mistress I do not love. I escaped her tangled clinging web once in my life, but her caress is now again the only hand that soothes, and deny's the companions blade the worst of it's sting. It matters not if her dulling bite comes in a needle or a capsule. I know her price, and find I do not care. I take the moment of relief she offers.
It would seem to me now, that I have few options left to rid myself of this unwelcome companion. I refuse the offered surgeons knife, a permanent promise of bone fused to steel that has no guarantee. A path that can never be reversed.
I hear Raven screaming his warning, telling me not to tread that path.
So I will dredge up what energy I can find, and try again, yet another path in a long series of failed attempts, and hope that this is the one that will grant me an upper hand, to stay the hand that twists the blade, at least for a while.
The ancient medicine I turn to, needles to feed a fuel from within. I fear there is little left to enhance their medicine, yet I must try to pull more from some deep well within.
Where is my Violet Flame now St. Germaine? Have I grown so dim?
Cruel unwelcome companion, I spit at thee once again. I will not go whimpering in the dark. You will not rob me of all................
Edited by Skywatcher, 10 December 2015 - 01:36 AM.