This morning, during meditation, I found embedded and obscured within the dense plasmic debris of my psyche, a glimmer of a sword in stone.
Reaching out with my awareness, I grabbed the weighty hilt, and by strain of will wrenched it free. There, revealed to me indeed, a mighty and glorious weapon, with a point so sharp it seemed that it could cut through to the heavens, and an edge so bright that it blinded my vision.
For a time I marveled at its weight, its balance, and form - when suddenly - volcanic sparks erupted and whirled in a desperate frenzy; clawing its way out of the left side of my abdomen were these hot electric fire-like tendrils that flailed and writhed in fear of my newfound might, of the sword itself, which, by some demand of its own - by some instinct for blood and order to defend - urged me to strike. I obliged. Then, like a magnet it hungered down hard, slicing the plasmic air that came to pass, toward the chaos, where it struck with such force - like hot iron on icy water - emitted a shockwave so fierce and a spark so bright that it shocked, rocked, and shuddered my core.
Then all was quiet... Hair stood as electric blue static danced about its ends amongst (what now blows forth from the impact), fast fading snowflakes that glitter about in the warmth of the sun. And it was then, in that tranquil space that I realized that I was free from a disease that, not only I had not known, but had now just won.