Two posts in a day, extravagant.
It keep coming for you this illness, it is relentless, it is vicious and it has no mercy.
You stand there in the clearing, the rain dripping from the trees, head down, your hair plastered to your face, sword in hand and he stands opposite. He has that knowing grin on his face and blood drips from his axe.
You have been in training, but even then it has sent it's minions; anxiety, self doubt and self loathing who have taunted you at every turn.
You lift you head and meet his eyes, piercing, irises blue like ice. Your feel your muscles ache, you can't see any victory as he roars out his battle cry and runs toward you a master of death.
You sink to your knees and accept the inevitable, the world slows and you contemplate the failures and frustrations of your life and his rictus grin widens as he lifts his axe for the killing blow.
A flicker of movement draws your eye, a familiar beating of the tiny wings of a butterfly, an image of a time when you were strong, when you smiled freely, hope.
Your grip tightens on your sword and you rise up and plunge it deep into his heart, he staggers back and for a moment you take a grim pleasure in the shock on his face. He falls to the ground and is still.
The rain stops and the dappled light shines through the trees. You stand and look at the sword in your hand, the black smoking blood dripping from the blade, you have won and maybe there is a time to end this fighting now the the battle is over. Looking into the pool of clear water you draw your hand back to throw your weapon to its watery grave, but just at the last second you stop, is it really over?. With once last glance at the corpse of your enemy your sheath your blade and stride from the clearing back into the forest.
Two hours pass, the clearing grows dark, the butterfly lands on the face of Depression; cold and dead and continues on it's journey. The corpse twitches and the eyes open, burning with the cold fire once more.....
Having gone from head in hands, to crying, to blind panic today I know that's I must not throw down my sword, my wounds will heal and if I practice hard I will win the battles in the future.
Matt