Times have changed, voices now silenced from heavy hands. Pushed, prodded, enraged, tired of being controlled. The irritating, meaningless, white noise distracting and infuriating. A distorted sense of necessity brought us here, suffocating a reality that once was. The gentle, warming flicker that once lead us home and safe has been enraged by a toxic fuel, threatening to engulf us in an uncontrollable inferno.

The critical time for action approaches. Look around. Feel the energy build. Embrace the electric calm. A storm approaches and soon, very soon, there will be no going back.

The tirades and onslaught of abuse have taken their toll. Provoked and bleeding, have you had enough? The moment has arrived. Air thick with anticipation. Sweat drips down your face as the worries, fears, disconnection from the truth, congeal, become thick. You submerge your fingers in the stuff and raise them to your face, apply your ‘WAR PAINT’….

Take a step back, just for a moment. You are now centre stage, the moment of no return… Pores oozing fuel and adrenalin, you let out one, terrible war cry, a throat-tearing ROAR! The wrath has arrived.

As the battle commences, you take one last glance left, then right. Who will survive this? Are you the endangered species? Will you be on the extinction list? Who will be next?

“Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light”.

Dylan Thomas

Solitude Art © ®