The Rage Your slow and laboured pace along this hot desert floor, You feel so weary, tiredness screams from every pore, the pace now slower, mind and body scream and plea, almost still, you ache, exhaustion ! you want to flee. You now drag yourself, so tired, you begin to crawl, You're fighting to keep your head above the squall, pneumatic wind spitting swirling sand with velocity, this quicksand pit devouring you with such voracity. Together within this pit are heavy binding chains , that weight which saps your strength now reigns, that draws you in, and wears you down some more, yet your soul will not allow you to shut that door. With tenacious strength now appearing out from nowhere, you pull and tug and heave yourself, back into the biosphere, head now above, the power of mind silently stills the rage, the beating sands, that were so wild, now steadily disengage. As you struggle now, you haul yourself right into a sea of calm, the senses reeling, body tired, but soon you'll feel the balm, weighted chains and quicksand pit, now transformed oasis, refreshing coolness fills the mind, you now know the basis. Take refuge from the harsh hot sun, sit beneath the shade, dip your mind into tranquillity now, and let the fears fade, pleasant thoughts, serene new hopes, you know you have won, remember....  often scenes are but fictions, that you let run ! Copyright Elga ~Indigo~ 14 October 2004  -  All Rights Reserved 09H27PM