In Ruins..

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die—to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;

**Opening lines from Hamlet,

I write this as I try contemplating, thinking; where I am headed, nothing in sight and a fear lurking inside. A fear of the unknown that’s slowly taking me over, pulling me apart. The demons within feasting upon the thoughts that show no resilience at all. Is this the onset of the calm that will finally prevail? No answers in mind, as I try gauging what the severity might be.

The mind estimates the consequences, as the skies turn grey, fear descending again; the hope that was nurtured in the mind and fertilized by positivity; is barren again, dreams aborted, the demons might have slayed the fetus of whatever good was taking form. The noises in the head growing louder, with their deafening screams shrieking out loud, it’s time to surrender and feel victimized again.
The patience; something that has never been intrinsic, standing in between the all-conquering forces of my own thoughts and my peace. And, this shall be it, the patience will have to subdue whatever comes it’s way, be it the raging chaos or the mighty tantrums of the monsters that are no longer appeasable.

The mind knows the struggle is transient, the soul hanging there; as chaos creeps in, the chill of being brought to reckoning; setting in and, and, and SHE arrives!! Wait, behold, another heartbreak in sight? Who cares?? Let it be, for She is as transient as the soul itself, the knowledge of it all does make the soul feel good as the burden lightens. With her in sight; the words shall find meaning, the raging bulls of chaos will be tamed and the disorder will be sorted. The faith of making it through, and then losing every bit of it; isn’t scary; it’s near perfect so to say. There seems sense in the insanity that would soar in the aftermath of losing sight of her. For now, the delirious mind seeks her; and has her in sight, tomorrow will just be another day; when I’d set out again, seeking her in her light, perhaps in the trail leftover by her presence.

And, She is at it; spreading her calm; her silence ironing out the cobwebs of the mind, titrating the frenzy with order. The demons seem sedated by her light, as their hysteria mellows. She is what she does; with her silence. A blanket of utter sangfroid her demeanor is, her light bickering and burning, and slowly fading away. She set herself in as the frenzied mobbing of the demons came to a halt, and that was it. And, like a streak of lightning; raging thunder and storm, it did rain though; the heavens opened up as serenity descended- she’s gone again; leaving behind the trail of her silence; that makes her up. I’ll follow lead: set on sail again; seek words to put her silence into perspective.

For now, I am at a loss; words are hard to come by; the aftermath maybe; but they will in due time. For I’ll seek again, the afterglow pitching in; as I contemplate. The mind has been sowed with belief; it’ll be harvest soon. Until then, let the monsoon arrive, the clouds of her thoughts will set it in. And, it will rain…