The Emergence of Peace

 I can feel the energy building, the inertia is a force all it's own.  I spent years developing it through push and prod.  To ride that wave of energy to a place that would be the envy of the masses.  But to go there means to change fundamentally.  To forgo the things that are real, and accumulate the fake.  A dream that I always endeavored towards for some reason now seems a curse.  I have seen the ending and it now frightens me.  I have seen the legions lost to their own futile quest for glory, vanity and praise.  Work and charge forth as the shackles grow tighter, drink of the cup of praise until character is diminished.  To paint the meek and balanced as lesser than and depict false warranties of happiness and self esteem.  But at night, when the room grows dark and we are all naked versions of ourselves, the voice grows loud and ever reminds, you will never be enough.  So each new day, a new mistake in the quest to satisfy the voice in the dark.  Oh, the legions lost in pursuit of that which does not last and matters only to them.  Oh, the legions lost in the pursuit of the faux life of another.  I felt the energy and all it's power, calling for me, tempting me with it's promise of mercy.  To a life free of bitter strife, leave those behind and be different.  Men will envy you and and your burden be gone, until the night sweeps us all and you hear the screams from within.  REGRET.  I take a chance and let it go and I feel the energy lessen, giving it up is surely a folly.  The word regret his new weapon, reminding me of what could have been in the world of my creation.  But as day turns to night and alone is all we have left, the faintest whisper heard.  PEACE.