What is power? What is the ultimate wellspring of endless flames? It is the beating heart inside of you. The pulsating fury of pumping blood that rushes through your veins with vigor and purpose. To wield power, true power means to have total control over oneself. To have subjugated the will. Shackled the passions and directed them like a general places his armies. Pawns, Knights, Rooks and Queens, all just pieces to the Master. All he uses for his ultimate benefit. All are parts of him and yet he is disconnected from them. Hovering above in chariots of fire.
The great enemy of your power and opposer of your latent strength is not some outward foe. It is you! It is the lack of self control you have. The sleep of your reason and deafening of your will when you allow your emotions to rise like thundering storms and ground rippling quakes which shake you to the core.
A Most Dangerous Struggle
Like Hercules fighting the Hydra you must take on all the weakness inside of you. All the feeble thoughts and hopes for succor. You must with violent hands lay hold of yourself when the Nine Furies come howling inside of you. Steady your gaze, focus your heart and mind. For YOU are the Lord of all that resides within you. An inner kingdom.
Are you not?
This battle has been one of the most trying and perilous for your savage host. I could tell you so many stories. When I lay in the fetal position holding a pistol to my head. When I was drowning in hard rain that never ceased. Tsunami like waves of pain and loathing. Darkness so deep I was thought possessed with demons.
Perhaps, but those demons were issued and conjured from my own weaknesses. Learning to control emotions which constantly rise and fall with vicious and terrible force was the unconquerable beast I could not slay. Still I did not achieve some easy victory nor have I won the ultimate prize. For the beast still stirs within me. It hungers. My own hands did lay restraints upon him though. One fucking finger at a time if I had to. This beast will never be tamed and it will never go away. So I accustomed myself to battling him. To rise to the occasion every day and bring the monster inside of me to heel. That is the fight my friends!
The most important fight of all. For how can you slay the beasts who dwell on this earth if you have not brought low the Beast inside of you?
To Become The Master
This is an upheaval.
A coup d’etat within your very halls!
The Beast must not be in control of you. His members must be restrained and his eyes must be made to look outward. You must master the beast who stirs within and break him to your will. It is then you shall achieve true power my friends. Frightening force which can reach into the heart and souls of men. Reach inside with rending claws and salivating fangs.
RIPPING this motherfucker apart!
It is through deep introspection. A river winds through dark jungles. Twisting, turning and curling down unknown waterways. Where the howl of a Beast roars ferocious at the pale moon. A man who has not wrestled his demons or conquered his Beast is doomed to be controlled by them. For the man, the savage man who knows what it’s like to bleed. He shall have dominion over all the weak and lacking in control. He shall do with his subjects however he wishes.
If he be a tyrant, a conqueror or a welcoming benefactor that is his own choice to decide.
The weak shall never have a say over who rules them.
Smile Within The Storm
Whenever you feel the automatic responses of your emotions kick into maximum overdrive, do not try and push it away. Do not run my friends like some scared kittens! Embrace the chaos swirling around you with lips curled in a sick smile and the cackling dark laughter of a mother fucking maniac!
For the Master, even when it seems that he is out of control.
He is not.
Though he may rise with tempestuous rage and heart stopping fury. Causing shudders of trembling to ripple through terrorized souls. He is in complete control. He wields his power like a man who rides a black steed out of hell. Galloping strong into a merciless destiny wearing a wicked smile. For his emotions are the flames that power his will. Not the doom of his reason. Only to the man who has descended to his own hell can he rise up. Out of those pits on a furious horse. Trampling all who arrogantly overstepped by hanging in his way.
Stormcallers Conjure Hurricanes
When the Master has put fetters upon his Beast. At the time he has corralled the monster, he can now call it forth from within others. Not for their gain of course but to turn their members against themselves.
Into the chaos of his design.
He conjures from the depths of unlearned minds their ultimate downfall. He stirs the waters and calls down the rain. Hard and heavy to fall with sorrows. Beating like liquid bricks upon the skin of his enemies. To toss and turn over and over. Black seas within malleable thoughts. The empty dark of lonesome halls and echoing fears. He calls it forth and spills it out of the weak. As everything they have effusively dissipates.
Their mind, their heart, their very souls at the mercy of the Master!
When you remain in control and your Beast subdued, the calculating cold judgement of a superior force emerges from the waters and rises to the Sky. It looks down upon an earth with ravishing delight. Upon the wallowing masses floundering in stagnant waters, he stirs what he wills and drains empty where he wishes.
That is true power!