Midnight whispers

A peculiar mood strikes those who are absent from the grace of serenity.

Perhaps it is for the better, as serenity, sweet surrender to the flow and echoes of time is a seductive gift granted only to those willing to accept.

To accept this reality as it is dictated, therefore to be confined within the module of peace, enables one to witness horrors and miracles alike and be unscathed by either.

The polarity dissipates it seems, when there is peace.

There is no anger, sadness, happiness, pain, pleasure, there is merely the serene presence of inertia, for the force is no longer active, alas it has been laid to rest, peace.

Indeed, those who are struck by serenity entirely are none other than the dead, the accounts of all humans while manifest pursuing higher spiritual ideals resulted as a means to reduce human suffering.

This is to say that even in life we wish not to feel and that which we can feel, we oblige so in excess, for there can never be enough pleasure and there is always enough pain.

In between the bouts of pain, glory, disgust and beauty that encapsulates the story of humanity, there is the longing for peace, for it to merely be, for stillness to reign.

To extinguish the flame that burns too high or low at last so that the situation can be grasped and at last understood by a divine perspective capable of dissecting the mystery that binds all within a single equation.

For there can be no pause, this requires action, we are tempted by distraction, inadequacies and lack of attention.

As in life there is an unseen direction, that ebbs and flows along with our own integrity and true intention.

Beliefs at the very least hinder our own progression, indeed it seems that peace at least offers one the space in suspension, where they can die and revive reinvented.

For at long last, the heart within began to beat as the soul ignited the mind to seek a truth that only one’s spirit can speak.

So at the very least when I am in too deep, and the body bleeds and the thoughts will not cease, granted at long last the opportunity, to fade away into serenity, to invoke the opportunity of clarity.

Even with insight, will the momentary pause allow one the foresight to accept the darkness in order to see the light, or is another game of roulette waiting to follow upon a future night.

Categories creative writing, poetry, writerTags , , ,

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