The mind can destroy a man

as it sits idle

The voice it produces begins as a whisper

gaining speed–

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:

Temporary whispers

Fleeting tornadoes

Welcomed torments

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

Whispers beginning

!!gaining speed!!


wait, what?

You look outside and realize what is there:

Sunny skies

God’s provision

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.
















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