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Loneliness is an echo chamber playing the voices of fear, the enemy of one's self, the battles whose guns ricochet within the soft palate of the mind, binding insecurity to the ever present need for companionship, betrayed ~
it is the place where need is manipulated by despair and hope betrays solitude inside the soft bounderies of the mind where damage manifests as bruises, soft fruit with prints matching abuser's. 

and inside the storm is the eye of the warrior entrapped in the winds of time and turbulence
and the cyclone is the laugh of madness, murder in the warrior's mind where the turmoil saturates what was once peace sensory bliss. in the storm you fight and learn to spit upon base cowardice.

I do not fear, I do not quiver in the storm. Lonesomeness girds me tight on its harness, sound regrets among the fallen. Notes captured by me which now I own for my cause - I cannot be destroyed I live inside my Self - I own these grand reverberations ~ I am chaos embedded within the storm, a careless power from the void emerged, and born flinty like glint of iron ore junked in the veins beneath the skin only so much restless dust
In my mind I roam meander wander in uncharted territory ever forbidden to the Others who cannot cross past the revolutions of pressure as I do

This is chaos the enemy artificial order where others sit gluttonous
Saturated in promises, slick from regret
while I dance and roar and make a friend of the rain