Behemoth of the Mind

A monster in your head takes up a lot of room

A great Behemoth arose from the centre of labyrinthine ideas.

Ideas of desperation, anger and hopeless plots of redemption.

He drew great power from them and in turn, the labyrinth continues to twist, and obfuscate me.

With his beastly claw, comprised of the power of misery and nihilistic indifference that fate saw fit to bestow him,

he struck me down from that labyrinth, and ever downwards I plummeted.

Through the Tree of Reasoning, I fell. The Behemoth's sickly aura tainting its integrity.

Revelation after scornful revelation exploded before my eyes with each branch I hit.

Every way out is a turn in the labyrinth.

All directions lead to a dead end hope.

The holy grail of inner peace and happiness is guarded by an enemy much more powerful than me.

That enemy hold all the power in this domain which is my mind.

I have no weapons, defence or any form of strategy against such an adversary.

Any resistance to the Behemoth is futile, always ending in defeat.

I will continue to fall to the depths at the root of this tree.

Next to the great sea of sorrow that stretches endlessly past the shores of hope, clouds looming on the horizon, leading to nothing.

One day, I'll let myself drift on that sea of sorrow. But not today, today I continue my path of futility.

I lay face down at the base of the tree, no comfort or serenity comes from the cool grass against my face.

The sun casts its blasphemous rays upon my body, dreams and yearning of those rays to break me down.

Let the flesh fall away and seep into the soil. Taking with it my will, my hope, and my humanity.

Let it sink away forever more, unredeemable, until my bare bones are all that's left. A shell of who once was, a veiled reflection in rippling waters.

The bones of a common man left to the will of the sun. And I, the soul, am rightful king of this domain.

But the tyrant who overthrew me, who took the will of darkened winds that so blew across and plagued my mind, and harnessed it for his own greed, he approaches still.

The Behemoth will not see a king overthrown without first shedding the last of his blood.

And as I lie here, after all this, no catharsis comes.

No light to guide me away from the beast, no miraculous revelation that allows me to pursue the chance of conquering this impossible enemy.

His hand reaches down to me.

I close my eyes for what I truly understand is the last time.

Reviews

[Tash Hill]

I absolutely adored this piece. It was so very intense and captivating. Once I started reading I simply could not stop and had to reread it. The only thing I could even suggest, and this is merely that - a stylistic suggestion. But with some sentences it seemed as if you had merely thesaurused (sorry about the made up word, lol,)the hell out every second word. But it still sounds good, but it sometimes hindered the readability and flow.

But again, I loved this!

Tash

[T. Greyman]

Glad you liked it, I wrote this after a pretty long break from writing and I'm trying new things so I'm a little rusty.
Check out some of my earlier stuff like The Mountain or Rain if you like the hooks in this. :)