The mind can destroy a man
as it sits idle
The voice it produces begins as a whisper
now, as loud as the tornado
tearing through the moment
ripping through the shelter:
the one the mind believed could withstand it all…
Fill it with noise.
Stimulate it with these things you find:
Say goodbye to the painful way it toys with you
for a while
Soon, the whisper becomes the tornado of torment
Just you and you–alone–in the locked away room
No threats in there
No despair outside of the coming storm
You look outside and realize what is there:
A good friend…
The storm never came.
The whisper told you to go somewhere else today
but who listens to that voice anymore?
The whirlwind is a threat
The sunny skies, God’s provision and the good friend
are as fleeting as the tornado
and not welcomed like the torment.