What is the inner struggle between good and evil, that manifests itself outward into God and Devil?
I see the fear in your eyes, the many years of fear in all of you who are here. Which is the right way to go? You have exhausted your possibilities of knowing. You think, you believe it so, but it is not. You have had to let go of your principles, the ones that led you to know, because you’re unsure, uncertain, don’t understand. It must be uncomfortable. I know it is. The feeling of not knowing and so, trusting your mind, that’s so out of rhythm, locked in time.
There is something within you that ticks. More like a rumble, if you’d stumble upon it. But its deep sound is lost within your surroundings and pounding loud thoughts.
You trust your mind, like it is one of your own kind, but it leads you astray. Most every minute of every day. Not that you want it to. Just that that’s its purpose. To tell you things when you have let it be the leader. When you have forgotten that you are the master. Forgotten how to be. So, it constructs maladies and melodies from past tragedies and harmonies that you might feel comfortable with, that could give you a lift, either upwards or down, as long as you felt you were going somewhere. The mind, your mind, is your enemy, your spoiled child that is wild, until you tame it, train it, hold its reins to restrain it. Why you let it go so, I don’t know. It seems you love the grief it brings ~ to bring you something after all in the mundane life you find yourself in.
There is a force within you that rises every now and then. It comes from your deep inside. Some call it conscience, and yes, it tries to get you to make sense of it all. Why are you here? Who are you? If asks you often. It asks you always. It begs you with its subtlest yearning that it is so deserving of. Your attention. This is the voice of attraction to the factions of Good. It seems odd. But, yes, it can be called God.
The other way pleases. It tempts you to think you are the woman or man of your senses. That your goal in life is to fulfill your strife through just living this life with all its bling and bongs and hollywood songs. It tempts you to be in this place, this world of yours. But you know better. You know you are not the one who should belong in this place of temporary measures. But blindness keeps you here. Because you have developed a distaste for displeasure. So much so that you’ve grown attached to what you see, seeking any ounce of glee, and your cells and atoms and electrons think this is all you want to be.
But deep down in the tug-of-war of you, you are coming unglued. You are questioning, wondering, waiting to find something. New. More. You begin to explore.