How to Romanticize Your Life

Her Voice

She beckoned me with the sweet sound of fury, and I could not deny.

I tasted the blood of the champion, and became the true victor, nothing stood in my way.

Except my own voice in my had, the harsh sound of reality, telling me to stop running.

Running towards what?

Where was I even heading?

Who did I want to meet?

Her voice, the blessed sound of wind - she spoke of a body that was my own, but could do so much more.

She said I would be able to run alongside wolves.

She said I would be able to see past the lies of men.

She said I would be able to speak the tongue of ancient times, the tongue of the serpents.

She said I would be great.

If only I listened, and did as told, to let her out of the cage I didn't know I had for her inside my chest.

My own voice, a desperate voice, warned me of the suffering: true loneliness, honest darkness, aphasia every time I would try to sing praises to The Lord that gave me my body and my life.

I would be empty, but strong, that my voice did not deny.

But then my voice asked, "Which do you prefer? Strength through fear? Or strength through mercy?"

I kept running.

That was when I noticed, that that melodious female voice, that tempting tone and sensual pitch, was my own voice - in my head. I became conscious of the many voices in my head, so many - cacophony of fear, or wrath, of greed, vanity, cruelty and pity. And while those voices yelled, when I paid attention... I could hear those still-small voices: hope, love, forgiveness, mercy, charity, and joy.

My mind - philharmonic.

I stopped running, I breathed, then I stopped.

I smiled.

I sang hallelujahs and joyous understanding.

So many times has reality struck me with rage.

So many times has truth stabbed me in the back.

But now, I never felt more at ease.

Oh Dear Lord, our God, blessed be thy name.