Its quiet and peaceful for now.
In the distance however,
holds a war of all.
A guardian watches alongside her sisters,
They see the world through the eyes of the creator.
As the sun gleam's upon the water,
A massive horde comes closer.
Valkyries are strong,
beautiful but deadly.
We fight together for the Light,
but the darkness can overwhelm thee.
Only one Valkyrie stands out,
above them all.
She is unique, wise, and tall.
Her blue eyes only see thy soul.
As this horde comes to the waves of white.
Valkyries spread their wings to take flight.
Now she knoweth the world and becomes,
The demon they fear, Kekay the Young.
Rising into the sky,
not fearing the dragons who surround.
She looks to her kill,
and stands...her ground.
Her wings turn black and her sovereign soul abides.
As she summons the Catalyst on the heights.
Tempest Suthrane as deadly and black.
The lightning kills off anything death.
The Valkyrie stands before her sisters now,
Who watch in terror of the darkness overwhelmed.
For now she is known as Kekay Suthrane,
The Valkyrie, The young, Dragon Rider today.
Know the war that takes place within her soul,
She knows not the worldly fall.
The end will draw near of the sisterhoods kin,
The blood will show the way,
To her next kill.
The Valkyrie of light and Darkness,
The Archaic one.
Shes the one you should fear,
For Tempest comes to her call.
Silly things, silly things
I have heard, I have seen
Making words out of screams
Things to say in your dreams
Every day, every day
Something new comes my way
And I too sing and play
even though I am gray
But I know, yes, I know
That things change when you grow
Rearranged just to show
You without saying so
Let me out, let me out
Of this cage where I pout
Off this stage where I spout
Gibberish all about
And I wish, how I wish
As I drop and I squish
As I flop like a fish
That I had not done this
This is bad, this is bad
Maybe I'm not so glad
Hear the chimes, don't be mad
Do not cry, don't be sad
Ah, to die, ah, to die
Darkness comes, close your eyes
Everyone by and by
Meets their end, who knows why?
We are friends, we are friends!
Were before, are again
All the more we depend
When the long road does end
Sing a song, sing a song!
Sing it loud sing it strong
You're allowed, life is long
Nothing's hid, nothing's wrong
I'm a kid, I'm a kid!
I can run like I did
Cowboy gun, stretchy squid
stack things in pyramids
It's a sin, it's a sin!
In a wink life begins
If you stink, you can't win
Earn your wings, be with Him
Now the ring again begins
I question the laws which are shared among our youth during these hard times; we have no great war, no question that burns the nations to their knees blaring. We simply have our poverty and power, our endless struggles and our eating disorders.
We are the nation of winners and runners; we are the hypocrites of our father’s religion. Welcome to America, so jam packed with fast foods and cigarettes that you can hardly taste the reality before it has bombed you down.
And then there’s you, and you’re sitting there, staring at the screen… laughing at the mother with the black and white face have her daughter slaughter and eat her, and I’m laughing to, trying to hide the little girl inside me screaming.
“Kiss me,” I’ve had enough broken hearts and sleepless nights to know what it means to have a hand to hold and a body to cling to when the street lights flicker and people ponder about your past.
Talk to me, open your mouth and share with me the secrets of your mother, tell me what tragic car accident brought you to this position and how far you’d run to hold her hand. Question my beliefs and my relationships. Chose kind words over replaceable concerns, fight for my attention, and question my devotion. I want to watch movies with you, discuss some kind of universe beyond my mind, and our boundaries, hold me close while the lights in the theater are dim we’ll dance behind the stage. The lights will be our stars, predict my future with your soft hands and gentle grin.
Because you’re a stranger, I can get away with wanting, because you’re new to me, I can fantasize, holding your hand in mine, resting my head on your chest, listening to your heart beat as you sleep.
Because I’m alone tonight, I can fondle a thought, fish for a chance to be on my own with you. Tell me something; open your mind to the possibilities of me and you.
Of course, all this is wasted on time, and I’ve tried to send you signals, I want to be your friend, I want to talk to you into the late hours, stand in the midnight man’s circle sweating, calling out into the darkness, sharing songs and secrets until the dawn shatters our dream.
Then the bell rings, and you move, get up and leave, go outside to smoke, and my mind goes blank, the thoughts and dreams of the tomorrows that we could have spent together have disappeared, into nonentity. The audacity of my fantasies have brought me nothing, so I move back to questioning the laws which are shared among the youth of these hard times, and I am shaken into a reality of obesity and anorexia, of Christians and Muslims fallen in line with the atheists, I don’t mind, because tomorrow, we’ll meet again and I’ll smile and you’ll nod, and I’ll dream while you giggle.
Imagine a world with no discrimination
A world living in harmony comprising of peaceful nations
The only colour reference would be made to nature
Humans will no longer be judged on their nomenclature
Such is a dream seen by all
But Sir Mandela was the one who took the call
On July 18, 1918, a hero was born
But due to his colour all everyone did was scorn
No one in his family had ever attended school
He was the first one to break this rule
On the first day of school their teacher gave them an English name
This was an African custom due to British bias – how mundane
And that is how Nelson became his first name
He kept it even after he shot to fame
A member of the African National Congress
He gave his opponents a reason to stress
A great politician, revolutionist, lawyer and philanthropist
Served 27 years in jail but never used his fist
Although a controversial figure for most of his life
He won the Nobel Peace Prize for ending the South African apartheid strife
On December 5, 2013, this giant passed away
The things that we can learn from him are a lot more than I can say
You are my beat,
a part of me on permanent repeat.
Just the thought of when our eyes meet,
gives me an an elation of pure defeat.
Nothing more to do than just be,
no biased judgement on what we see.
Just our minds set eternally entwined and free,
black or white, hate or love, up or down, agree or disagree.
I would never change a thing about you, me... We.
From the external beat, to the inner workings on my heart,
you've made yourself a special place from the start.
Close, far, near, or apart,
God has painted our paths on the same piece of art.
Even when one thousand pictures cannot tell the story in your eyes,
there's no disguise, no part of you that ever lies.
My soul slowly opens, loves, and cries,
for the beat that may lead to the demise,
of all walls, opening all possibilities in the heavens and skies.
you know what it takes
you know what's the price
there isn't a love without a heartbreak
without unpleasant surprise!
you know how it breaks
you know about its curse
there isn't a love without a heartache
without bruises and scars!
you know the stakes are high
you know it takes your all
there isn't a love without a sigh
without the pain of fall!
you know its tearing claws
you know it leaves you hurt
still you love because
you believe it in your heart!
The coming of the light was disorienting at first, like the shimmer of the surface of the sea when viewed from beneath. Ossie Mae was swimming up to meet it head on with the fearlessness that only the children of the Great Depression possess. That stark light called out to her bones.
Ossie Mae could hear faint sounds of work: the crinkling of cellophane wrappers, muffled footsteps, and an incessant chatter of beeps nearby. She broke the water's surface and spied a silhouette moving gracefully around the room's only bed. The lights' intrusion subsided, and Ossie Mae was able to recognize hospital scrubs as the silhouette's garment of choice.
"Am I dead," Ossie Mae ventured feebly.
"I don't know," the silhouette responded. "Do you feel dead?"
"I don't know what dead feels like."
"Then how do you know you were ever alive?"
The question hung in the air for a moment while Ossie Mae gathered her wits. "I don't reckon it matters, does it? What happened? Where am I? What is your name?" Now the questions flowed like water over the falls.
"I am Nurse Cassandra. This is a hospital. You are here because you fell and broke your hip. You came in alone...is there anyone you would like me to call for you? Family? Friends?"
Ossie Mae's pupils dilated slightly, as if looking past Nurse Cassandra, searching. "No. My husband, Jack, passed away eight years ago. We never had children and the few friends I have are all in nursing homes or moved away to live with their babies and grand-babies, or to Florida. It's just me now...," Ossie Mae said, her voice slowly and steadily trailing off.
Nurse Cassandra, who looked to be a woman in her early fifties, set down the clipboard she had been scanning while Ossie Mae spoke. She sat down next to Ossie Mae and took her hand. Ossie Mae thought to herself that for such a young woman, Nurse Cassandra had old eyes. They were kind and gray, but seemed old and out of place.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Ossie Mae," Nurse Cassandra asked gently.
"Well...my daddy was a simple man, and he always told me 'Ossie Mae, you ain't got to know what you want in life, but it sure does help to know what you don't want.' I sure do miss Daddy...but I reckon what I don't want is to stay in this hospital any longer than I have to. Could you get me out of here? Please? I don't belong here no more."
"Are you sure? Really sure that is what you want, Ossie Mae?"
"Yes'ums. Yes ma'am." Flatly. Definitively.
"Then of course, Ossie Mae. I can help you with that." Nurse Cassandra stood up, reaching into the pocket of her scrubs. "One escape, coming right up."
Nurse Cassandra turned to Ossie Mae's I.V. drip, moving quickly with practiced hands, emptying the contents of the syringe into the port on the line.
And so it came to pass: Nurse Cassandra, Ossie Mae's Angel of Death, sent her home to Jack and Daddy.
i am still undecided if i should continue to pursue this genre....