Battle by Rocky
The battle field stood rank with the gore of a slaughter house. PRIDE was badly wounded and EGO lay bruised and beaten unable to rise. Thanks to their struggle ANGER had been contained, yet again, back on its chain pacing. ANGER had almost grown into RAGE because FRUSTRATION had been feeding it. While EGO and PRIDE strode bravely into the fray without weapons or armor, FEAR simply stood at the sidelines and sang lulling the beast while COMMON SENSE slipped the chain back over its neck. SELF RESPECT had run away as soon as the battle started and that left her twin sister SELF PITY to tend to the wounded, huffing and puffing as she dragged PRIDE away since no one else was there to carry the other end of the stretcher. EGO sat alone watching the sunset made ruddy from smoke of the battle and cried because even SELF PITY had forgotten him.
COMMON SENSE kept watch over ANGER to keep FRUSTRATION from feeding it again. Little REGRETS bounded about her ankles as she watched the massive ANGER deflate to a minor IRRITATION and finally disappear. But she knew that as long as FRUSTRATION was around one of these little REGRETS could turn into an IRRITATION and FRUSTRATION could feed it and the battle would start anew. Leaving FEAR and SHAME to watch over the breeding site she turned to other things that required her attention.
COMMON SENSE weary from daily uprisings in the battle finally broke down especially when she found that FEAR and SHAME had befriended FRUSTRATION. DEPRESSION came into her office oneday to let her know that PRIDE was crippled and may die, he also pointed out that EGO had started drinking and spent long hours alone in the dark. That was the last straw, COMMON SENSE leaped out he nearest window and ran off to join up with SELF RESPECT. DEPRESSION took over and ran things from there. He got himself a beer from the fridge, put his feet up on the desk and settled in for a long stay.
PRIDE died today from all the doubts that would not heal, not even SELF PITY'S tender care was enough. EGO hasn't been seen in a week. The battle field lies black and scared. Hope and trust will never again grow in that salted soil. Joy no longer flows its banks are dry and arid. DEPRESSION has invited MADNESS to move in with him. If that happens, DEATH says he is going to sneak in and shut everything down... I wish him well.
(c) 1998 S. Day