It doesn’t take twenty years for you to understand that our mind houses all the heavens and hells of the world. No person on the face of the earth today can really get hold of what they think. The mind just happens to be a limitless entity; a kaleidoscope of thoughts, colours and elusive creations. The mind can be witty hero, a limitless hero; only to be marred in time by that what limits its potential to create: emotions. That which involves the mind in delusion, confusion, making you not sure of what to do or not to. If there ever has been a devil, the greatest devil that neither god, nor man has ever gotten away with: it is the emotions inside. They either create an uncontrollable thirst of cowards or the drenching of the bold. Of course our fathers who told us our epics never saw this devil coming up. All they showed was killed of people like us giving into the deepest sorts of thirst: to kill, to rule or to betray. They all are found in different parts of the world saying the same story in different variations of setups and twists and turns like a corny tv soap back at a household. The writers probably had the greatest time to kill off writing the same shit from somewhere else. It does appear at times that everything in our world started out on some inspired idea, some blatant story or article technique. All they did was add variations like those epic guys, until they got their style disguised as their own.

Anyways the epics showed up, we believed them; told the story to our children, who would easily believe the first god damn story anyone told them. They heard it over and over because it was the longest and the oldest story ever, the story clung onto their minds, and they decided to repeat the same to their kids, and the cycle moved on. Generations transformed into framed origins and the great halls of epics were established. But their purpose dissolved, they were, as we all are, unaware of all of our unknown purposes in life. Something drastic happened to them, as it happens to us all the time, and we let the change get hold of us, and forget what our mind created. Epics had been a symbol to show that they were the classic acts of fiction. If we ever consider the possibility of a fiction coming true to life, theirs will be the least. But they told us that the devils and angels were set within us. And that devil cannot be killed in a long poem. It hasn’t died yet. It is a symbiote within us. It is on our unknown will that how much dead or alive it can really be. Thats how special the human mind can be. It can fight the epic battles at many a seconds of our conscious and unconscious lives. It doesn’t need to be told or been told to. The epics said that we had to get rid of the symbiote. The symbiote was called feelings and lives by the biological name of the hormone.

And that is it about the lusts we have within us. We consume it with desire, are raved by the fact when the thing we are using gets over, the feeling stays. The devil grows inside our darkness. This feeling can be for wants right from booze, drugs to money, blood and even sex. If viewed from a certain point, the very Karmic existence of these ‘rituals’ can appear to be to – inhuman. They won’t appear to be the acts of sane members of a socialist society; but the acts of animals – out in the wild.  When you open black dark case of money which shouldn’t be there with you in the first place, right open in your hand, you feel the urge to let go of it. You use the case after all, suppressing your inner moral hero. You live on it for twenty years,  doing the same act of selling your soul. But you would never forget the first time which started it all. You would never be whole again. Same is the case when you have a want to kill. You pull the trigger for the lust of the moving steel and the piercing bullet. You would not then listen to the screams or the chills. But after the kill you will always see the thickness of blood, the remains of terror which you unleashed. And even though you are a monster, the remorse will haunt you in your dreams. Your monster could then crawl into shades of darkness. All the prayers and challenges of us just happen to be for keeping it there – dark, inside and asleep. You could bow down to your devil by giving I again; or you could keep it blinded in the dark forever.

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