Tight rope of sanity

Madness and sanity are two often displayed as two stark differences when in fact their only difference is a lack of balance of the person that is called in question.  As we move through life we are forced to walk along a tight rope. Our balancing act based on knowledge and its perusal.  The axe quivers in your hand as you look down upon the one you love. She sobs and cries and begs for forgiveness for undone crimes and pleas for the life that she has that has gone unlived. Seconds tick by each seeming like an eternity of self meditation her cries silent now only her wild gestures of mouth and tears stick out in the mind. Her sounds mean nothing at this point.  Thoughts tick by like sand each grain a loud enough echo to blow your head off. Where does it go from here? If you drop the axe it will be over your lover gone forever, never again daring to darken your door. Your face for ever haunting her dreams.  But who knows what happens when you allow this instrument that has already destroyed so much to achieve its true purpose, to set bloom above her head the thick red rose of spatter of life’s end. Your thoughts race as the images of her life being snuffed out pound across your temples, the heart rushes and the mind soars for a moment. Blissful knowledge floods the senses over whelming them rationality is destroyed momentarily and nothing matters for that brief instant you have achieved nirvana.  But realization is the dam that blocks in your ocean of discovery. Pushing you back down To see the gore you have created. The mind reels in surprise at the destruction you are capable of, your hands shake and the axe falls to the ground splatting slightly in the pool you now stand in. Sorrow, joy, and pure rage fill your being. The question why multiplies like fleas each ear shattering question gnawing on your grey matter  as they fill your mind, your temples feel as though they may shatter.

Both sides have the same end result a life destroyed  one with the emotional ride  the other and absolution. To what end will you come?

Reviews

[Tony]

Fantasies and erroneous philosophy such as this begs to be looked at as art, but in reality is manifestation of disease.
Likely caused by various combinations of "the seven" which live in the selfish and Insane spirit of the inspiration.
This is not art. It is an act of violence, not yet incarnate.
The only truth I see in this piece is a good one. Hidden among the venting of frustration:
"Our balancing act based on wisdom and it's perusal."
I like that.
I like this disgusting little story too. For what is said outside the words.
Thank you for sharing!