The Calm before the Dawn

The calm before the storm, in its own way can be more deafening than a loud bang or a thunderous boom.

It is the waiting for that which will appear and rise over the horizon, while we wait during the black of night, around midnight and before the first light of dawn.

It can be the cause of our anxiety, the cause of our panic, the cause of our meltdown that leads us into a tirade of anger and madness.

It is waiting for the unknown which can lead one to hastily make rash decisions and to cause one to miscalculate the strike of fear in the enemies' hearts and mind, or in some cases, extremely, the loss of life and those who are in our charge.

"How can one prioritize the most important of things when the inevitable will take place, during the moment when the mind plays tricks on itself and then it turns us against ourselves?"

"Would it be better to allow someone else to make the decisions that may change the course of one's actions and have them plan out all that would otherwise be lost?"

The sitting and the waiting can become the worst of all nightmares placed together in a single moment of uncertainty and chaos. It can be when the loss of one's faith and one's confidence come into question. That which can have the ones who before were assured that they could complete and succeed in doing anything, they then will lose the trust placed in their abilities.

It is about having no emotions, having no feelings, no need to show them or discuss them for having them is a sign of weakness. It can bring about the willingness to replace them and all because they failed one time.

To be able to disguise and camouflage, hiding in plain sight, keeping themselves in one way or the other, to be able to get in and render endless damage as quickly and quietly as possible.

To find a way to retrieve what is needed for their own to put together and make use of all that is provided, assuming they can be given enough to make a single decision. It is the responsibility of the lone warrior or lone wolf, to seek out, to obtain and to even sacrifice their own lives for the good of whatever is needed to happen when the turning of a war, of a battle, or any operation to succeed.

Then it will become a covert moment, finding the safest way into the battleground encampment, by passing all those who would oppose and defend if they are found out, and then searching for the less than obvious location, to retrieve that which is needed to be returned and studied by the ones who were never willing to risk their own lives to achieve this sacred materials, the spoils of war.

To demand and give no reason for the need, no explanation for finding that which means a difference between a loss and a win. To linger for however long that it is to be for one to foolishly uncover and take with them even if they know the consequences.

Playing such a game is never a guarantee. Participating in the game has no prize to be kept or displayed like a trophy. You are not on a team or with a group where you can pass off the baton or flag so that you can stop and rest. You are the leader, you are the soldier, and you are the one, the only one who will be expected to find a way to get what you are after.

As the darkness of the night becomes the darkest. When you are no longer seen in any form of light and that includes the shape of your body, or anything associated with it. You are then having to depend on your wits and become like a blind man seeking out things not to trip over while make their way through area, that you have memorized in your mind, blindfolded.

You are there but not there. You are like a dead man, where your breathing becomes less noticeable. It is as though you have full control over your various movements and that nothing allows anything to be checked on. Never make a sound like a ghost.

It is at this very moment. As the seconds become minutes. Turning the minutes into hours. The hours linger and are hanging in the middle of the air, like a man in the desert begging for a drop of water. There is not set way to know this and no way to provide the man with any water.

The moment is blurred and becomes a passing hallucination. Like a drug addict high on something that may cause or bring about panic and anxiety. A mirage and an illusion. It can tempt the mind into seeing which cannot be seen, to hear what is not actually heard, whether a noise or spoken words.

It can cause one to become tired and bored, with each ticking of the watch or clock, the moment starts at a time when, unless written down, will never be recorded. It will be spoken about later unless it is considered classified. And then it will be mentioned amongst the high clearance officials, to be forgotten in a mound of paperwork.

It is something that makes most only decide to be a part of once and pray that it will never be asked of them again to repeat the whole horrifying experience. It will leave battle sized scars on the mind, introducing the idea that things will never return to their former self much less to be normal again.

Then the savior provided will present itself and will be the largest to come. The dawn will break open the day and end the night once, like a triumphal warrior winning a battle that was never actually fought or in progress. It will be the darkest before dawn and the dawn will win once more with no words ever exchanged.

Silently.