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 Dec 2016 Mybadbrainday
Pax

words creates strings of emotions,
it connects from one reader to the other.

-quote-
i just had a passing thought earlier on what to do next year or whenever i got the time to retrack my life. I really wanted to write a story or a tale. I want it to be completed this time. When writing a story went inside my heart, i manage to write several chapters but i never got to finish them. I always thought that my knowledge or experiences wasn't enough for me to built a solid plot or realistic/fantasy viewpoint. I remember this quote i wrote for a review in wc i did last week and realize that our poetic words is an extension of our life's strings, maybe this is one reason why i write quotes which reflects my life and the life around me whenever it is in writing or reality. It is a reminder, a guide, or even a inspiration to those who write. You know, at some points within my realm of thoughts, i tried to forget and even give up writing because i have a low self-esteem, as i grow older it never went up to confidence, so it went to my heart and become stone that i went on isolation to never finding any relationship, even friendship on the real -world i considered them as acquaintance, i built up a wall upon myself. sigh... i got side track on my life, sorry for that... my point now it that never stop writing, as i am doing myself to keep on going. thanks for reading....
the day
when even the not so faithful
were tempted to pray
for the health of the nation
 Nov 2016 Mybadbrainday
SG Holter
This axe was made from
Oak and
Anger.
Forged in the fires that
Shaped my cardiac
Armour.

I'll never surrender to a
Woman
Who sees love as war
Ever again.
It's been a long,
Lonely time.

But I've seen peace.
Still sacrifice to the gods,
Praying for brief, cold
Winters; for all other
Seasons to be neither.
They all have room for a

Woman between them,
But my hatred for ego
Is a burning beacon of warning
Even I myself shun.
I just want the silence.
That deep, deep silence,

Whose last word will never be:  
"Me,"
But:
"... ... ..."
That, I can love.

This axe was made from
Oak and
Anger.
It beats paper; scissors; stone.
Sees me armed. And still
Alone.
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