The Conflict Within

Conflicts have raged upon the disputed soils of earth since before men began to record them. But there have been other conflicts less recorded, less lauded, but more redoubtable, oh, so much more. These were no less bloody than those who drained the life from promising generations, but they were more certain in their calculated rage, and arguably precipitated those lesser skirmishes. For they did not inhabit those regions of memorialized ground, but were carried within by those who fell there, and were carried away by those who lived to tell. For these were those conflicts within men of which none other could compare. In ferocity they were rivaled by none, and of that blood which flowed, unnumbered hearts proved an endless wellspring to slake the thirst of a thousand earths. And so, from the lacerated soul pours a bitter bile, a perpetual disquiet. This is the madness within every walking corpse, the insanity shadowing every potential good. Such is a sadness beyond all tears ever shed. It is the mutant upheaval within every son of man. Bowels of a deep and groaning lament, seething within and without; the fetid breath of a million rages. It is the conflict within... G.R.L.