I pressed the knife's end against my veins, to see if it might sting the same; as when you call my name.

The blood hasn't spilled yet, yet I'm already drowning in the pain.

Words last forever once said; the past is beyond our reclaim.

Once, the story goes
A few decades or so ago
In a land of silence
A few people gathered to roar
Pity,
All they wanted was to make a sound
To read a poem, and sing aloud
Once, the story goes
A few decades or so ago
Silence was pierced for a brief moment
And scarlet red stained the ground.

But this time,
It's comfortable
It's not defeaning
It's calm

I believe this is peace.

In an area of outstanding natural beauty,
I hear,
'nice flowers, let's pick some'
but
my gun is ready
my aim is steady
if those flowers go
so do they,

I am deadly

why try?
this isn't a pick what you can
and buy
it's a pick if you dare and die,

Love the wilderness as
you love
your own and leave the flowers
alone.

The wave looked small from a distance
But they stood beside us with their large ships
“We’ll fight” they said
“Together” they said
Then when it came with all its glory
There was no one left but us
Fighting the water with our small rickety boat.

A moment
Fear struck, along with adrenaline
I hardly recall the steps I took
The words I spoke
The frantic way I looked,
But once the adrenaline faded away
Fear was left alone,
And it started devouring my soul

"I'm right." says he
Says her, you, my friend and me
"right" stares from afar.