MORAL STORY

                                  "KNOCKING OUT MY INNER"

Here is my life, my dear friends who now sit quietly in the solace of you rooms.

If you are not in control of your life where would it lead you?

I am an artist. This is a strange yet dark memory that gives me the chills till date. This memory repeats often.

He was a demon. He came out of a river one night. He was only a face, he did not have a body but he towered over me. . I was a small little boy then. He was black.

Black molten stuff oozed out of his eyes that spread all over me and the surroundings.

He taunted me with his horns. He wounded my leg. Blood splattered  creating ripples and red ribbons all over the river. My blood turned the river red. I saw my blood being washed away until it was pristine white. The demon started weaving white muslin ribbons from the stream using its horns. He played with it, waving it across the clear sky. Suddenly the ribbons started winding up my legs .It wound me up. It was all over my body. Those were bandages of eternal bondage. I lost my strength. I lost all sensation. I was tired. I was scared.; Scared and scarred for life. I did not have the strength to move forward.

I had become an eternally productive machine. I needed time to think and process my emotions. I wanted to stop everything before had a burn out. But I did not have the courage to do so. I was torn between two worlds. I feared myself and was scared of hurting others whom I loved.

Life turned and I grew

The demon’s strength grew in me

I must find him. I looked for him everywhere. I wanted my strength back. I wanted myself back.

As far as the clouds I have come, searching for that face.

He that left me as I am; but never found him. I could not remember his face .All I remember is an almost black sky and the white gushing river. There were flashes of yellow light. And some more colours. They were only colours for me.

Then I remembered the horn, the blood.

I realised I had never known him, never seen him

I had not seen his true face, He never had a face.

He was always in my mind. I had a lot tangled up in me, a lot of unhelpful thoughts and beliefs. I tried befriending this horrendous demon to understand him better. The more I befriended him the more I realised the presence of a counteracting demon, he did not have blood on his horns. He was there with me always .There was always a tug of war between them. The good and the bad. And always ugly.

Neither is never free, always scared of losing their grip on me.

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                                                                                                      SOURCE BY-NITAKURIAN

PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM