The Things that we do,
the things that we say,
are ever in a state of constant change,
and life the great teacher,
provides us with influences
of both good and bad,
but the task of deciding which is which,
falls only to us.

Expectations unmet,
create a nasty shock,
aim slightly lower.

Hollow, and bitter,
scarring me in more ways than it seems.
my heart aches at the empty words,
"I love you",
I wish, pray, and consult the heavens
that soon they might prove to be true,
but, here I sit in idle wallowing in the sea
of despair and pity.
Only the removal of these empty words,
will enliven me once more and that I might
utter unto you the sincere, heartfelt words,
"I love you",
and mean it, but as for this moment,
nay, I cannot say it without it being deemed
as false.
For they are, Empty words.

We shall sleep long into the night,
Our bodies stirring from time to time,
Our eyes are shut, but we still see a world,
We have walked from the wings into the light.

Actors on our own stage,
The set our own design,
The plot our fears,
Our deepest desires,
A beauteous melody lingers,
It fills the air with sweet scents,
Vivid colours, flashes here and there.

The time seems short,
But the story long,
The meanings lost at the time,
But after you awake,
There's only moments to remember,

Lest it drift away,
Unlikely to be remembered,
Forgotten.

Let my death not be brought about by the pain,

of elongation, of sickness and disease,

nor the bitterness and cruelty of Nature.

Let my death come of time,

when all else seems of no effect,

in the midst of yells and screams,

Fire and Smoke,

crack and Shot,

in the hot temperament of Sacrifice and Glory,

Let my death unfold like a letter being read,

and my death will be watched,

by people who will stand in awe.

Let My death be not of no use,

Let it serve a true purpose,

let it be with intent,

Let it be of a lesser good,

rather than a greater evil.

I will not die in the solemnity of a hospital room,

Nor in the silence of a cold household room,

I will not die in bitter cold,

For deep down inside,

I know I will die with the warmth of my love for,

my family, my home,

my people, my nation,

My Faith, My Freedom,

My Brothers, My Sisters,

My God, My God.

“Catch me if you can!
I’m over here,
perplexed?
I’m really over here,
Oh wait,
I’m really quite near,
Ha ha ha, Foolish man!”

“Slay This madness!
You are what I say!
Stop, stop, stop, stop!
I am honest to the ‘T’ “

“Oh come now,
there is plenty to go around,
please come drink my milk,
and see which of you has it best,
bicker and argue children,
like vile beasts fight and quibble”

“I have it better,
it tastes exquisite”

“Nay, Mine is better yet,
a milk of sensational delight”

“Both are wrong,
Mine sings sweet melodies,
and dances on the taste buds”

“Alas these men are fools,
knowing not that they have indeed
the very same milk,
yet pride draws them to fight,
and lose all sense of GOOD
Reason.”

“Oi, I’m over here,
and You there,
come here too,
meet me here you two men,
now, you’ve found me,
here in the middle,
not far to opposite,
where blindness reigns.
I am here,
in the middle,
I am truth.
And if you tried,
by yourself,
you couldn’t
Catch me if you can.”

Being great at something,
it doesn't make it any easier.
In time perhaps you might
accept it, and acclimatise,
being a good soldier,
it doesn't necessarily make it easier
to shoot your opponents down.

Being great at something,
it doesn't make you immune to pressures.
Nor the mock and ridicule.
There is a lot to consider,
when being great at something.

Is days beauty disturbed by clouds and rain?
For who truly decides what is beautiful to world?
Only you decide what is beautiful to you,
and not a thing can change that,
for everything in the world has its beauty,
but not everyone is able to see such beauty.

It has me thinking, is a beast ugly to another beast?
Is a woman ugly to all men?
Is a serpent hideous to humans?
Who decides?
Only the people who view them can decide for themselves,
beauty is not like a word in the dictionary with a set definition,
its ever changing, ever present and it is spurred from personality.
You cannot mould beauty to suite your own needs and desires,
you can destroy it!

But who would do such a thing?
Beauty is not the physical part of all things,
it is the emotional and spiritual side of all things also,
the whole is beauty.