We feel what
we write.
We struggle over
what might.
In our head is the battle
that we fight.
Sometimes we just
want to know.
Do I stay or should I go.
In our mind so much thinking.
We stare at this wall
without even blinking.
In life we feel different emotions.
A trusting heart brings
love and devotion.

There’s nothing
I want more
than to win a
lip sync battle
with God.

Step forward,
turn your front leg backward.
Spin into round kick inward.

Must be like a cowboy
Korean versions of a bad boy
Hidden skill shown with a coy

Jump spin into 360 kicks,
By breaking those sticks,
Then onto those bricks.

Further test your skill with an opponents,
Becoming strategic with your movements,
Bashing their heads against your martial improvements.

Taste your first defeat,
Your blood upon your lips,
Spilling from your head.

Move forward,
Onward,
Aim toward victory from inward.

For defeat is not an option,
Winning is the true completion,
Because being number one is accomplishment.

So why are you laying on your own puddle of blood,
Defeated like a soak dog,
Get up and fight!

At a time when i was the epitome of sadness
When my tears could sing the blues....
Tears no better than my cracked lips

The Herculean task of my agony trying to make love to beatitude...
And so they agreed to disagree
I was left to my own fate

But i whispered a prayer to GOD
For Archangel Micheal

He looked into my eyes,saw the terror
Why!!!! I felt him
Delving deep into my heart and life
Building up all the broken pieces
Fighting a losing battle: but VANQUISHED

A smile redeemed...

Angel Micheal; my gift from GOD.....

I'm watching the night.
Black velvet sky
and shimmering light.
Shut down my battle.
No sword is fighting.
I'm feeling alright.
While people are sleeping
and reaching their dreaming.
My eyes are slowly closing.
Hear the wind softly howling.
It's such a comfortable delight.
Before I fall asleep.
I wish you all sweet dreams
and a big hug good night.

He was just alive
beside me, laughing at my
***** jokes, shaking
his head in shared silent mirth.
His last words – ‘Stop it, Joe, you’re-‘

You can only win this battle
if you are willing to fight.

You can only see clear
when the fog has left your sight.

You can find the courage
to do the things you must do.

Look deep inside your heart.
You will find the answers of truth.

Believe in yourself.
And the rest will follow to.

Forged by Hephaestus himself, tempered in Satan's heart.

It moves too fast for the normal eye to see,

But leaves traces of moon glinted footsteps in the fissure of heaven's breath.

In the harmonic tune of clashing instruments, an orchestrated chaos is present.

The chord from the bowstring beats time on wooden shields.

To this, their blade waltz continues.

Their cadence unmatched by surrounding performers,

The maestros continue their viperous style.

Just as a painter cannot take away a stroke of the brush,

A swordsman cannot take away a stroke of the blade.

We do not walk away from the echo's of combat
in fact, we embrace it....
the shadows of death haunt us
but we like to believe that we haunt the shadows