If living life is a duty,
I have failed miserably in carrying it out,
Like a warrior with no courage at heart,
The sight unseen leaves me with a wish to depart,
I reside on a battlefield,
Petrified for my life,
Alas,
The idea of survival seems more enticing than success,
I am living perfectly the life you wish for me to live,
Like a soldier on A battle with themselves,
But if I accept it's your triumph,
But I don't value me enough to struggle,
For myself,

I want to love,
So I can prove that
I am not completely lost,
In the hurdles of time,
And that there is a heart,
If not for me,
I wish for it to beat for the existence of another,
So my being can find a purpose,
I am in a a state of constant desperation,
To learn and to be learnt,
By heart,
So that I am never forgotten,
So that I may linger without consequences.

Shall the cries of the dead be heard?
When the world quites down,
Do the weeping winds coax their pain?
Seeping the ground for their comfort,
Will the rain find it's purpose then?
Will it be happy knowing it's not just a source of shallow joy for the living?
Will the clouds stop crying?
Out of pity for the dead,
once alive,
Does the sun apprise us of the regret of the day before or the one ahead,
Does it pity the ones it doesn't serve,
The ones dead

What aghast consumes us to not share a lil of what we have,
Is it being bereft of our nature?
Our astounding nature to love,
Why have we locked it deep within hatred,
So one must suffer,
To have what we were made to already give,
What inspires you to hate?
It is for a fact a misleading virtue,
It doesn't strengthen the roots of ones power,
It robs and dwindles a lil of his nature as a man,
And makes him unrecognisable,
a stranger to those familiar,
So tell me dear father,
Why do you hate?
What is the cause of your perpetual anguish?

Shall I spill words?
Shall I spill tears?
Or Shall I spill blood?
Indegenious to my nature is the fact,
That it can't stay,
It needs to flow,
It needs to be felt and heard by another existence,
A much kinder and understanding one
Hitherto,
the sacrifice to spill has left a dauntingly adverse repression,
Nothing has sustained,
all has been robbed,
"Shall I spill away all that has been left of me?"she wonders

In the quiet time I can feel it
It comes over me like a mist
In the stillness of the moment I sense it
It gently caresses me
In the calm I hear it like like a beautiful melody

I am lifted up
I can reach beyond myself
I can go to another world
I can lose myself
I am inspired

In the quiet time I feel it
I go to a special place
Where things are calm and still
Where peace lives
Where there is light
Where there is no darkness

In the stillness I can sense it
I can hear others hearts beating
In the calm I feel it in my soul
I am lifted up
To another place and world
To a place of light
To a place of inspiration
To a place of greatness
To a place unlike anything
In the stillness of the moment

Snowflakes gently touch your face but you are not cold

The air is refreshing
As you breathe you focus on your each breath

There is total peace around you
There is a scent of pine in the air
It reminds you of the coming season

You close your eyes to listen to the quiet
When you open your eyes, you see a doe looking at you.
Still, quiet and peaceful

step outside the fire circle,
be swallowed by the night,
step farther into the night,
be swallowed by the stars.