Victory over chaos
I refuse to follow their ways
So i sort for life
In this movement am guilty of no harm
All am trying to say is be who you are
It doesn’t matter were you are
Or were you come from
Stand your ten toes so strong
Let your believe be that of a brave heart
Despite the temptation of life
Keep moving with faith my brother
Be unstoppable yes be motivated
Turn your difficulties to uplifting moments
Life will always bring a lot along your ways
Not all will favour your vision but is part of life
So be not distracted when thing goes bad
Life can’t brings you all you need
But you can always be who you are
And this is a great win already
If I can’t climb the mountain,
I will find a way around;
what matters is reaching the place
destiny has mapped before me.
If wrestling shadows is required,
I will fight them to succeed;
for in the book of life,
each page must turn with time,
its wisdom carefully absorbed
before the next is revealed.
As though life resents our existence,
it serves difficulties as daily bread.
To drink from the cup of victory,
forged in the furnace of success,
one must grow small as a camel
passing through the needle’s eye.
Success lies hidden in life’s belly;
one must pry open its clenched jaw,
wrest the sweetness it has swallowed,
before the songs of triumph are sung.
Though life’s teeth are igneous stone,
I will seize the molten magma,
shape it before it hardens,
and rise, crowned in blazing triumph.
autumn lingers unfinished
though cold drops november
rain and waits undiminished
'til native summer sun remembers
what could unmake
when days full ache
bloom autumn colors
quick winter all borders
golds greens yellows
reds purples browns
a rusted rainbow frowns
as leaves scoot over meadows
fallen from mountain forest
after fields have given harvest
a father of one teaches his son.
chase catching leaves for fun
they twist turn swivel pirouette
lunge leap slide slice 'til earth is whet
while boy staggers with arms stretched
missing while dad knows misdirect fetched
two and three leaves while son fustrated
cries to quit but egged on infuriated
at last by chance or by experience
claps and traps one in victory dance
Copyright © Cornelius Brantley | Year Posted 2024
Ye barron lands
I take a glance
Might the whispers
Accompany me
Winters may come
I stand
I fall
My troubled soul
What untangles me
Some may wish
Some may pray
In this world
What do the troubled say
Look to thee
Might the nought undermined
Sweet the gesture
Which appeared warm
and kind
Look to the rainbow
If thyn believes
To morn the fallen
To let folk grieve
People long
From generation to generation
Suffer not
In such a
Complications
Jesus, Jesus
Might my troubled
Soul wonder
The river of Jordan
The troubles I'm under
Jesus, Jesus
Restorest me
All that are submissive
Are lovers to me
Complicated
By those who gesture
Might the bliss of
Coupling
Be thyn measure
Before he neath
To ask one to
Marry
The troubles
Of entanglement
The scorns
I carry burdens of faithfulness
Ought not not
Empead us to marry
Jesus, my Jesus
The threasthold
He carries
Procreate the doom of
Those of those
Against us
Jesus, Jesus
Might my wants of
Marriage have me
Jesus, my Jesus
Can I prosper
In praydom
Speak you as Saviour
Might my just rights come
Jesus:Jesus
My troubled soul
My selfish wantings
Oh Lord take
Controll
Truth is a dagger—painful,
yet healing when it cuts deep.
History does not lie:
the Imperial Japanese Army,
once a beast of discipline and fire,
marched on arrogance,
believing steel could bend the world.
But time betrayed them.
China, unarmed, hungry,
with no advanced weapons,
stood in defiance,
its discipline sharper than any blade.
And when the dust settled,
it was China, scarred yet unbroken,
who rose from the ashes of war.
Now, eighty years hence,
the drums resound again.
Parade of steel,
columns of might—
Putin watches, Kim nods,
and the world is forced to witness:
“The China of yesterday is no more.
The China of today rules the century.”
Is this victory,
or a warning written in banners of red?
The West whispers,
“If you cannot beat them, join them.”
But Japan, silent,
remembers the shadow of its past.
Nations bow not to friendship,
but to power.
And power, once attained,
rules the stage like an emperor.
So I ask—
when the dragon leads the march,
who dares to stand against its fire?
I woke each break with cast a shadow on my chest,
a nameless weight that stole my needed rest.
It spoke in lies I dared not try to fight,
and turned the morning darker than the night.
I laughed in rooms so no one saw the ache,
while every smile felt brittle, thin, and fake.
It fed on doubt, on all I held in fear,
until my hope grew faint then disappeared.
And saw not ruin but a quiet resurrection.
A spark within me, stubborn, fierce, and small,
whispered, rise now…you will not fall.
I never struck it down with a conqueror's sword—
I just smply prevented confiding the fibs it made.
I stood unarmored yet would not yield—
my heart-- the only weapon I could wield.
It roared, it clawed, but I refused to bend;
its reign of silence met a sudden end.
And in that breath, my life was rearranged—
The day the beast cut down, was the day I changed.
In broken silence,
a single breath rises--
flickers of hope through the cracks,
light spills where shadows clench
vigor birthed from the stillness,
victory whispered softly.
A person’s actual name Victory
Surrounding story
Struggles after another
Each situation different from the other
Going from one chapter onward
Defeat moments felt a violent Thunderstorm
It seemed like a detour to nowhere
Darkness seemed to surround every situation
Trapped in uncertainty
Suddenly a turnaround
Circumstances an onward approach
Unstoppable
Pressure lifted off
There was a force of victory on a direct course
No more darkness just brighter offspring
Being a challenger to cut the barriers that wanted to bind
Victory unified
Winning in try
Victory was today, tomorrow and continuous
The story
The name
Victory meant to be.
OF DIVINE GUIDANCE AND VICTORY
Let’s be as Noah,
Arking liberation waves
To shores of justice:
Let’s be in self-forgiveness;
Divine wisdom guiding us:-
It's not a Stockholm:-
Rather, it’s America’s
Oppressor Syndrome!
Such unique shared infection:
Victims equally psychosed:-
Self-liberation,
Begins with divine wisdom;
Ask, and it’s given:
When we make human mistakes,
She will guide their corrections:-
Always be aware,
Liberation can’t be bought;
It’s fought for and won:-
Let’s get to needed fighting:
Victory awaiting us:-
Stand Firm—Yahweh will CONFIRM
Yahweh Sabaoth is a Master of Legions
He fulfils the reputation of His Name
He Heals, Saves, and rescues His people
He draws in the New Citizens as
His Kingdom grows and grows
Yahweh fulfils his Covenant Promises
By opening doors that could never be opened
The citizens of God’s Government executes His Divine Purpose
The NAME of Yahweh shines in darkness
Glory to the Story of the Lord’s Redemption
Yahweh’s Kingdom is Peace; therefore,
Do not lose your purpose in Christ Jesus.
The NAME of Yahweh shines in darkness
The name of Yahweh sets you free
By opening doors that could never be opened
Yahweh Sabaoth is a Master of Legions
He fulfils the reputation of His Name
Stand Firm—Yahweh will CONFIRM
There is Victory Through Yahweh—a helper for his citizens in present times.
Yahweh helps His sons and daughters.
Mark Frank
Copyright 2025
Why the grey sky grew
Could it be because of you?
Or because my heart's feeling blue
The sun only shines when I'm with you
When we're far apart
The world grows dark
It thunders and rains
Blowing wind that chills my veins
Occasionally striking the garden we grew
A garden of love built by me and you
The anger of fire will destroy the dome
A place of heaven we call home
My tears will run dry when can no longer cry
At the thought of you not being my side
Without you I would die
Because without you I'm incomplete
A shepherdess without her sheep
Let's surrender in defeat
And love one another when we meet
For our time is only the beginning
There is no ending to our winning
Because am a champion in our never ending glory
Of a wonderful everlasting love story
P-osted
O-fficial
E-ntries
T-o
R-aise
Y-our
C-ompetition's
O-utcome
N-icely
T- hrill
E-very
S-ponsor
T-oday
Monocrostic
R-oad
O-f
S-uccess,
E-veryone
A-spires,
N-ormally
N-eeds
E-fforts
©bfa060625
Monocrostic (Birthday of Rose Anne C. Geñoso)
In fifth grade, I earned first place
statewide for violin
against the girl I half-loved—
her fingers quicker,
her lineage more illustrious—
but that day,
mine did not tremble.
She chose a piece
with fireworks and pitfalls—
something by Tchaikovsky—
I chose Barcarolle—
plainspoken, sweet,
a boat gliding through moonlight.
I played it without flaw.
She slipped once,
only once.
We both knew I’d won
on a grace note—
not brilliance, nor fire—
just a clean line
held steady
while hers faltered.
Afterward,
she turned from me
like a violin
tucked into its case.
A week later,
dad took us to a restaurant
with cloth napkins and candles,
to celebrate my victory.
He smiled too much,
and talked too loud,
and the wineglass
trembled in his hand
just before he threw up
on the checkered tablecloth.
He tried to pay,
but the card was declined.
The cashier cut it in half.
He gave them his gold watch
as a promise.
I wished I could just
be invisible,
and we left without dessert.
Two years later,
I buried my medal in the woods
and never played violin again.
Your greatest victory
Was my worst defeat
When you walked the high road
I stumbled down the low road
When you gained it all
I truly lost everything
You became whole
And I slowly fell to pieces
You have nothing but time
But time for me has frozen
I was just a small chapter to you
But to me you're several novels
You filled my days with warm rays of light
But now I stand forever cast in darkness
Your eyes made me feel real
But now I feel plastic and fake
Our time together was pleasurable
But the memories are painful
Wherever you walk the sun shines
Wherever I walk the rain follows
Your greatest victory
Was my worst defeat
Because you got to walk away
While I could only stand and watch
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