Not all wars are waged on the physical plane, within the soul of the creative wages a war the seeks to extinguish all hope, love, and beauty. This is the path of the tortured warrior.
When I was younger I was always struck with a profound fascination for tribal cultures. An inherent beauty in exists in their aesthetics that seeks to lure in all those that wish to experience their mysteries. While the fascination never left directly, the eyes of wonder and mystery that perceived them quickly became dulled by a world that was difficult to understand and substances used to escape. I had spent much energy feeding the wrong wolf, the wolf of evil, and was consumed by anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego.
My battle as a tortured warrior began early in life by my own thoughts, actions and doing. The other wolf, the wolf of good, suffered many defeats, injuries and was on the brink of death many times. However, some divine force kept that wolf alive, nurtured him at his weakest, healed his wounds, mended his bones and fortified his spirit. This is what allowed me to combat the darkness inside of myself.
It is said that it always seems darkest before the dawn and it was in the abyss that the torch of my soul was ignited from the divine spark. The tortured warrior within was cornered by my own actions, thoughts, and beliefs. Paraphrasing Sun Tzu in the Art of War, you must leave the enemy a path to retreat otherwise they will fight to the death. This is where the wolf of evil made its mistake, it sought to exterminate the good that was left within me.
Pressed against the wall, with defeat and death the only option available in the chasm of my mind I was forced to fight. Spiritually bruised, mentally broken, physically weak, I managed to muster up the courage and the insanity to fight a losing battle for the sake of honor. The tortured warrior within me let out an inaudible battle cry for its rally and blindly pushed back against insurmountable odds. The wolf of evil, drunk off of ego and victory was blind to the force that still existed within the shattered spirit of the wolf of good. Unable to maintain its ground the wolf of evil was slowly pushed back out of the chasm of mind until it rested on an open plain.
The wolf of good no longer stands cornered in the chasm by the wolf of evil, it stands in front of that chasm as a guardian. The wolf of evil has many options of escape now and as such flees like a rat from a sinking ship. The tortured warrior within me has healed and stands with the wolf of good. They nurture and support each other as they are confident the wolf of evil and the evil sorcerer that is its master will return for more battles.
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Ross is a self-described techno shamanic gutter poet who crafts and tinkers with back alley philosophy enriched by his initiation into the invisible mystery schools. In simpler terms, Ross is a nomad of reality.