A mind is a galaxy in it’s own right. A vast, complex space, easily lost in by those that don’t know their way. Within this infinite space reside not celestial bodies, but massive cosmic storms. Each maelstrom is a swirling, churning mass of basic emotion. Each even has its own hue, blue of sorrow, red of pain, white of empathy, violet of pleasure, to name but a few.

These storms of basic, primitive feelings spawn more complex thoughts. These are the starships of the entities residing within their respective warps. Each carries their own armor, guns, and insignias. For indeed the mind is their battlefield. Every second these ships fight and war for there storms place at the fore of the mind. They battle to dominate their galaxy.

Vomited forth from the war-storm of Pain come massive, red hued capitol ships of Anger. Slipping forth are from the blue of Sorrow are the jagged, turquoise ships of Misery. These ships have the largest guns, the thickest, holes, and the pilots most skilled in maneuvering the vessels. They destroy all other emotions and thoughts to posses their master’s focus, to command the tone of their galaxy.

There are other ships though. They are of a sleeker design, more maneuverable, but more easily decimated. They are the stark designs of Happiness, unadorned, for what coloring does such a feeling need ? Flying with him are the muted greens of Compassion, both constructed within the storm of Empathy. Rarely do they ascend to the fore. Sorrow, and more often Pain, and his cruisers, tend to blow them from the celestial heavens. When they do ascend however, they bring a fresher, brighter light to their galaxy. They gladden their master and his realm.

But then, being small and hard to attain, they fall. Shot out of space like a skeet by a shotgun. The time it takes for the wreckage to be salvaged is always too long. The storms of Pain and Sorrow always retake the throne of dominant thought.

The violet ships of Pleasure have seen victory only once. A light once entered the dark galaxy of their master’s mind. The light tore apart the ships of Anger and Misery. It even penetrated the clouds of Pain and Sorrow, whose hues so oft clouded his mind. The light strengthened and ascended Pleasure and Empathy, along with their minions of Happiness and Bliss. For months they reigned, brining a glorious new light to their space.

The anomaly was speculated to be Love, though his gleaming golden ships had never graced the galaxy. It was thought to be merely a breakthrough in their master’s thought process, which of course created them all. Old grey Belief ventured that it could be a higher Power, higher even then their creators. Then he came.

He arrived in a massive flagship, merely a single component of his armada. His ships were built of a rainbow hued marble, and they carried with them they light. It was Hope, gone so long from the war torn region of his mind that all had forgotten what it looked like. His light smote apart Pain and Sorrow, till no more their colors darkened the galaxy.

Then one day, he simply vanished. Gone, as if Hopes light had never filled the dark mind of their master. The particles of the red and blue warp storms regrouped. They utterly destroyed Empathy, her ships of Compassion and Happiness unable to defend herself. Pleasure was forced to flee to the darkest corner of subconscious space. His violet banner has not been seen since. Hope never returned. Without his support,, all good and was lost and Pain ruled king, and Sorrow his queen, of the darkened galaxy mind