A row of shoes were lined up,
Ready to be slipped on
Each pair unique, telling tales
It’s owner’s burden buried deep
their sufferings carried on

One of the pairs horribly reeked
Of long hours under the sun
Soaked with sweat and tears
That leaked from it’s owner’s eyes
And seeped through the owner’s toes
Exploitation and oppression
Tattered and slipper strings snapped
Which brings into question
Can we dare walk in those shoes?

Another pair was rather extravagant
Bejewelled, dazzling with rubies
The aroma of vanilla spreading
Through the radiant effervescence
Yet it held a vibe so ominous
Perhaps emitting unhappiness
From the riches that brought no glee
Which brings into question
Can we dare walk in those shoes?

Slipping your feet into a pair
crawling, walking or sprinting
Empathising in their shoes
Shredded from sufferings
Or stitched with threads of hope
What truly matters in those shoes
Is to understand with compassion
Gaining a glimpse of their wars
To interpret, understand and empathise
With “Verstehen” we can learn
And share our battle scars
Then perhaps, we can accept ourselves
And each other in solace
so let us ask ourselves, once again;
Can we dare step into their shoes?

Left said is of the simple stories unread,
Begun of tales lost and of mistakes within rot.
A flower blooms in the mist,
Open petals of human thirst,
Nourish, as the sun burnt, our seething scars learnt.
Each of each fought,
And this story witnessed by the stars,
Grows through the whistling call of the Sorrowful,
The Vengeful,
The Regretful.
All characters sought;
A kiss from the power of light, life with litigation,
Left and begun,
Battle and won, from all, anticipating admiration.
Hero, he is, to escape the soul of those that know him not.
He was everything, yet
Everything willing to bet.
The tale of called-on salvation from endless forget.
Script by the Gods, this desperation,
A play with human nature, I must mention.
He proved endearing eyes, grinning grimes,
By grain and by grain,
Destiny designs a breakable frame.

Antihero


An old stone built tower stands above all on the skyline;
The curves of its body twisting spiral’s in the air.
The moon shines around its peak, which reaches up so very high.
It is surrounded by a castle keep,
That is an image of a burnt out nightmare.


The castle walls are in pieces, like its people,
Cannon fodder their game.
The drawbridge has fallen, but the iron gate still remains.
The shadows in the night speak of a desire to be the enemy within.
The voices of the fallen spit out their final endless scream’s.


The sound of war is upon the castle door.
No more escape for its inhabitants,
Apart from those who are fleeing through the century old tunnel.
The secret passage to a way away from all the savage.
The army continues to do battle, at the top of ladders and ramparts.
All have been affected by this battle’s damage.


The sorcerer of this cursed land,
Stands in the furthest, most high room,
Shooting lightning at the wall tops as the chaos reigns below,
Where all is doom
And in a final decisive action,
The sorcerer reads from his ******* book;
The ground shakes, the fire falls and all enemy are shook
And thrown from their steeds in front of the castle gate.
In pieces they bleed and from the tops of the castle walls,
Those who are falling will never be saved.
They crash to the floor and become no more.
The sorcerer falls to his knees, exhausted of power,
But he has put an end to this midnight war.


No protection was given by the enemies armour.
Their swords and shields crashed loudly as they hit the ground.
The enemy is no longer the invading warrior;
They are all running in fear and their last sounds are all dying out.


As the sorcerer takes the final step down from his twisted tower,
He pushes open the thick oak wooden door.
As he walks out into the open air courtyard his face is a glower;
No living enemy can be seen, because the enemy are no more.


His men are all cheering and shouting his name,
But the sorcerer is not laughing with them, for he has a plan.
He tells them this morrow they will all fight again,
So they must all prepare to once more stand.


Some voices of discontent whisper within the ranks;
Some of them openly criticize his view.
As he creates a ball of flame that hovers above the palm of his hand,
They all realize he has been their antihero
And he could be their demise too…if he chooses to.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Waking up
I wonder why

Why
Why
Why

Why are you shouting at me?

What did I do wrong?

I don't know
I just

I don't know.

Please stop.

You won't.

Why would you do this?
Why am I even here?

I want to leave.

But
I can't
I can't
I can't

I can't.

No matter what.

I'm stuck here
No escape
No freedom
No hope

Nothing.

I want to save myself
But
No matter what
I just
Fail

Over
and over
and over
and over

again.

I just want
To be
free

Maybe
There's no
other choice

But
No
No
No
Yes
No
No
Yes
No
Yes

Yes.






Will you miss me?