The Panther of the Night
Encircling all
It comes surreptitiously like the Panther of the Night entrusted to pursue her prey just for a gifted desire to kill whoever dares come into her turf. It’s already too late before awareness comes into play, the body dozes into a lethargy that makes every muscle feel like jelly meat, already readying to give up when the time comes.
The body demands the comfort of the renouncement from the denial of giving the Panther her win, and the mind thwarts the miserable effort to stay alive.
Every body cell turns limp, and the only labor occurs as consciousness tries dragging the dead weight towards rest. The mind wants some more time of life in the conscious world, but it’s getting harder as heaviness wins an inch closer to the darkness that promises to bring the obstinate balance as if it had been forfeited before.
The internal quarrel alone is utterly draining, touching even the very soul. Mind vs. body, mind vs. consciousness, unconsciousness — the kill. The latter keeps creeping towards its goal — the Panther, encircling all. Conditioned by nature, playing by the book, using her tricks to tire the victim towards a standstill.
All soldiers in the internal battle drink from the same source, which is far from eternal, and replenishment takes time, they know, and knowing still, they…
