© Steve Gray 2026
A random peacemaker, ok a warrior of sorts,
Making peace with himself, he then wondered how he could be a peaceful warrior?
Did not the stance, ‘warrior’ mean he had to fight? Had to stand strong and tall and rattle the cage? So to speak?
The thought then came, ‘If I don’t tell people I am a warrior, they won’t know,’ Therefore I can do what I want, aggress, regress, do as I please.
He then reconciled with himself again, as the peacekeeper, ‘If I don’t tell people I am a peacekeeper, I don’t have to be concerned about it, I can do as I please.’
There’s something wonderful about being ‘comfortably numb’ I guess the aim is to be comfortable and at ease about things.
Here I stand pondering, do I turn left or right, do I stand or sit? Do I do, or don’t do. But if I don’t ‘do’, I would still be watching and listening, therefore I am still doing, but not so directly. Aha! A point of reasoning has been reached, I am, therefore I think, I am not, therefore am I not?
Abstract
© Steve Gray 2026
The blade is buried, not broken. He became a shadow in his own armor, a vigorous storm that learned to calm its breath.
To be a warrior is to rattle the cage; to be a peacemaker is to remain settled. But labels are just heavy coats. ‘If I do not name the beast,’ he whispers, ‘I am free to bite, or to bless.’
He shed the titles like rusted skin. No longer a servant to the stance, he moves through the world unmapped, aggressing, regressing, a silent pivot in the dark. There is a brutal luxury in the anonymous pulse. To be ‘comfortably numb’ is not to fade, but to reign in the quiet.
He is finally at ease: a weapon with no master, a peacemaker with no price.
