I’m scared of it, but crave it at the same time, that surge of power as you take hold of it, that immense power that only God’s should possess, not mere mortals, that power scares me whilst being the only thing one could possible desire.

My common sense makes me want to lock it away in an underwater prison, my daring side loves it. The side of me that was addicted to other things now craves it, the side of me that had the strength to get off the drugs doesn’t have the ability to resist pure power.

I suppose it’s a good thing really, it got me off the drugs, I can use it to help people, but… I don’t think I’ve a good enough soul to resist temptation. I reach out and grab it anyway.

Almost before my fingers touch it, every cell in my body dances for pure joy, power surging through my veins instead of blood, my eyes seeing for the first time, ears hearing, everything is so… Conquerable, and I want it all.

Use it to help people, I seriously thought I could have the will to do that.

I watch the fire dancing and a moral panging makes me hesitate, pause, and tune in to the light.

My helping people spree doesn’t last long, sure, I saved an old lady from being run over by a lorry, but I put her zimmerframe on the roof of Downing Street, sure, I plucked a bullet or two from midair, but I also fired a bullet or two, sure, I did loads of good stuff but all of it has a negative partner.

I tell myself to stop, put it back, but I don’t have the power.

Well that’s not my best… let’s say it’s good enough.