As the battalion races into battle
You can hear a Saber rattle
But as we charge with guns a blazing loud
He can be seen, leading the crowd
A Ghost on horseback brilliant white
In his suit of armor a scary sight
No one can believe their eyes it seems
He should only be seen in blood curdling dreams
But to us he is as real, as we are
Like us has traveled very far
Not in miles, but in time
Like a hero in a nursery rhyme
As we charge on and vanquish our foe
A thousand soldiers all in a row
He leads by example from the front
The cannon fire, he bears the brunt
Can the enemy see him we all think?
Or is it only us, and a curse of the drink
Imaginary or real boldly we wonder
We frightened soldiers in a politicians blunder
As the battle rages, he disappears as quickly as he came
And none of us even knew his name
It's a garden battle between devil's claw and heaven's petals
I see your struggle
The dark nights
The voices that haunt you
The scars you bare
I want to be enough
To stop the pain
To keep you safe
To save you from you
I wish i was enough
To take the pain
To promise you a future
To see you find happiness
I love you so much my dear girl...
...just wish it was enough to end the mental pain.
Holding Holden’s shoulders,
Until he gets scolded,
Shuddering,
Folded,
Rolling messed up boulders,
So, we can be told what is bold,
Rolling them uphill again-
My friend,
Kin...
I would lend a hand again & again,
Until then,
It is an amends I need to make,
Take a break,
For Heaven or Hades’ sake,
Wait!!!
It is MUCH past 2 late,
I still do NOT hate.
Fate!!!
Bedtime Battle
My momma said,
“It’s time for bed,”
but I’m not
sleepy yet.
I shook my head
as if to say,
“I’m not
even ready.”
In my defense,
I wasn’t really tired.
“Put your PJs on,
go brush your teeth.
It’s time to go to sleep.”
I thought of
a quick rebuttal:
“If I slumber now,
I’ll wake up much,
much too early.”
It only took
a single look
at Mother’s tired face
to know I must comply—
Mom was both judge and jury.
Her verdict:
off to bed.
I could not win this case.
I dragged my feet,
gave one loud sigh,
my face all wet with tears
as I stomped off to bed.
I don’t know why
I have to go to bed.
I told her
she should go instead.
Let me tell you a story
of a little-known battle—
the Battle of Harvard College.
It started one day
on a snow-covered campus
with one simple snowball.
The first soldier
launched his attack
on his unsuspecting brother.
It wasn’t long
shots were volleyed back.
Up in the window,
the general stood,
surveying the chaos
below him.
Grabbing his tricorn,
Washington charged.
De-escalation
was his only mission.
In a voice that commanded,
he ordered his men,
“Stop all this nonsense
at once!
How can you become
a unified army
when you bicker
amongst yourselves?”
The men now knew what they had to do,
for this general,
it was not smart to cross.
Without one single grumble,
they returned to their duties,
becoming a unified army.
48 teams started the journey
All hoping to go far in the tourney
But one by one they were sent home
Soon 2 will be left to battle for the throne
France has booked their ticket once again
Only to face the formidable Spain
Its a semifinal sure to thrill
As both teams show their skill
England and Norway will vie for a semi-final spot today
Will the 'Vikings 'the '3 Lions' slay?
Argentina and Switzerland will also battle for a spot
Argentina is sure to come out on top
I'm going through a lover's quarrel.
The universe is fighting with me.
I'm trying to get the knowledge,
Thinking about my destiny.
Already figured it out, not trying to disrespect my family.
Caught between the life cycle of who I'm really trying to be.
Knowledge is the only way to live; that's all that matters to me.
But the force is so strong that I'm losing mentally.
I'm arguing with the universe that's stuck inside of me.
It's trying to elevate me to a place to live out eternity.
The elevation is stuck between one and seven.
The lower numbers are hell, and the higher numbers are heaven.
All I'm trying to do is get back my lost history.
Sitting in a corner,
My wings still rest beside me.
The gate stands open—
I just don't remember
how to fly.
I used to chase the breeze
And loved to hum every rhyme
I remember every wild ride
The storms that broke my stride
Nonetheless,I got up again for a new flight
The bruises on my wings are far less,
And my own mind
Still pecks at every feather.
The dark horizon is gathering shadows
The dark horizon is gathering shadows.
All the vanishing wings,
And here I am—
Marooned away
Will I learn to fly one day,
Or stay caged away?
Cynics must show wrath;
Still, we need to overcome,
With our utmost might.
Brilliant execution
Orders followed
Self preservation
Far from battle
Cloistered warmly, safe
Divinely chosen to sit
In Bill's house on the hill
Awaiting the body count
Lives snuffed out
Two years ago
Did not go away
Now back to haunt
Karma is real; payback
In other lives and places
Time's a continuum
Matter's indestructible
You do not beat the Devil
By hollering at him, punching
Him in the face – that’s what
He is, violence, physical and
Spiritual discord. You do not
Beat the Devil by heated protests,
He feeds on your discord, relishes
Your fevered pitch. You don’t
Beat the Devil by binding him,
Throwing him into flames – He
is flame, pain and suffering. He
Joyfully savors every lick and
Subsequent ash. In fact, you do
Not beat the Devil, the Christ
In you must be risen to bear
Righteous arms. Take the battle
Upon yourself, make yourself
Arbiter of the Lord’s justice
And you will lose – He will
Defeat your lesser ego for that
Is his inlet and base of operation.
Shut Him out, do not give him
Any power for presence – and
God wins. We all win…. As my
Dearest Friend said, "Resist
Not evil."
The battle between good and evil lives in the back of my mind
I choose good, I choose love.
But I am often disappointed as it seems that choice is never the right one.
I grow from my experiences; I grow like weeds in the cracks of the driveway.
People pick me the way they pick a dandelion.
I am used for their wishes,
And what is left of me is tossed to the ground,
blown away by the wind.
I try to grow again,
But like a weed, I grow in unwanted places.
And I am picked from my roots once more,
Only for the disappointment to repeat itself.
And in this battle between good and evil in the back of my mind,
I still can not help but to choose good, to choose love.
When battle knocks upon a child
and he hides beneath the trembling wall,
fear plants its flag inside his name
and silence becomes his shadow.
For life is not a river crossed
with folded hands and lowered eyes;
the sky respects the stubborn bird
that flies against the storm.
A boy becomes a man one day
not merely by the count of years,
but by the wounds he dares to face
and the tears he refuses to waste.
The brave are not strangers to fear;
their hearts still shake like fragile leaves,
yet they rise when destiny calls
and answer thunder with footsteps.
O child of the red earth,
when hardship stands before your door,
do not surrender your spirit
to the cold comfort of retreat.
Stand.
Even if your voice quivers.
Fight.
Even if your knees grow weak.
For the one who confronts his battle
may fall and rise again with honour,
but the one who runs forever
becomes a prisoner of his own fear.
In shadows deep, where silence grew,
I fought a battle, none ever knew,
The weight I bare, a heavy chain,
While smiles hid deep, the hidden pain,
They laughed and chatted, lost in the day,
oblivious to the demons in my way,
I wore a mask, crafted so bright,
yet the tears fell, softly into the night,
I cried for help in whispers faint,
But their backs turned, as if by fate,
A gentle plea, a grasping hand,
Yet they missed the signs, the need to understand,
Now the echos linger a haunting sound,
Of moments lost, of love untold
They stand in sorrow, crying when it's late
Wishing they had noticed,
Before it was fate.
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