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On sandy land and muddy plains it appears
A mark left for succeeding generations
Carved with hands, sweat and blood
Indelible a mark that cannot be erased
You can find them on the various paths of life
For very few have been careful to leave them behind
And many careless if they mark their path
They are heroes and heroines of songs
They line the pages of books and poems
They grace the walls of museums and temples
Some are men and others are gods
And all of them have walked the earth

They discovered the heights of the sky
And the depths of the seas
They found the distances of lands
And lengths of deserts
They carved their names on stones and monuments of rocks
With their blood, sweat and hands
Marks the walls of earth with their names
Heroes of wars
Lords of science
Kings of nations
Queens of kingdoms
Loved and hate, doubted and scorned but none was a fool
Lords of art
Kings of songs
Telling their stories in pages with age
Prose, Drama and Poems
Today we sing memories of them

And we have heard
How they made war
How they caused war to cease
And we have heard
How they shed blood
How they saved lives
And we have heard
How they fought death
And overcame reproach
Great and small but none was a fool

Some and have been found and their stories told
Others are lost and the search is on
But diligent as we may be
Forever they may be lost
In the heights of the sky
In the depth of the sea
In the dark alleys of the cave
In the heavy sands of the desert
In the deep belly of the Bermuda triangle
And in the racist and hateful heart of men
But still abide their footprint on the rock
And the sands of time may tell it all
Or never will their footprints reveal.
veritas Jul 2018
gods and goddesses stilled mid-flight,
immortalized in a glory fast fading.
distilled sunlight filtering through, unheeded,
as a devastating dawn for redemption awakens.

     dust scattering over marble hands, forever supple,
as angels fall from grace,
wings clipped and torn asunder.

the sigh of a thousand lost souls, searching;
the thunder of a thousand chariots, unbridled.

     a wing outstretched, a bow pulled taught;
drawn, not fired.

frozen heroes lifting voices unheard;
     the calm before a storm, a fight unforeseen,
silver linings beckoning victories
of heaven's epics left unsung.

look up into the clouds and you'll see a history unwritten,
for they speak to you in murals
of smeared colors and pure light.

but hush! sweet child,
off you drift into an insincere sleep,
until these stories buried beneath your lips,
     singed, searing, burning away memories of the battles that
   linger ,over your tongue  ,
are no more than a shadow of a flame.

   and as his lashes flutter closed over blue eyes
   and his heavy golden curls fall on white sheets
   she whispers,
        the renaissance was not painted for you.
look up. and then higher than that.
Aa Harvey Jun 2018
Jack and Jill: Enter the Matrix


Jack and Jill, took the blue pill.
The truth they cared not for, the truth they ignored.
Their minds couldn't handle, what their brains didn't believe.
The truth stood in front of them, but they knew nothing is free.


They thought if they learned,
What wasn't meant to be known.
They would become slaves and never see home.


Stood on top of a hill, Jack turned to Jill.


Did we make the right choice?
Should we have had our eyes opened?
Just think of all the things, that we could have learned.
But what was the cost, a life time of slavery?
In life nothing’s given; foolishness is bravery.


Think of all of those heroes, you read about at school.
They died for a cause, surely that makes them fools.
Sure they found their fame, but only in their deaths;
I'd rather be unknown, than take my last breath.


But forever more we must know something is missing.
Our lives are a lie, our entire existence.
Scared of learning, or scared of the consequences?
Regrets all we have now, the truth could have been splendid!


Our chance has now passed, through fear of being slaves,
But we're trapped in this matrix, a slave to the wage.
Money and possessions, that’s all that we crave.
The heroes may be foolish, but at least they were brave,
Enough to at least try; I think we’re the slaves.


A glimmer of hope, shines right there in front of us
And we turn our backs, through fear and mistrust.
We could have been Gods!  Better than our fellow man.
Now were just numbers, working for 'Uncle Sam'.


We could have flown, like birds in the sky,
Slowed down time, dodge bullets and not die.
We could have lived forever!  We could have been just like Neo!
Now we’re just worms, to be eaten by the eagles.


I hate you Jack! You made me choose wrong.
I hate you Jill! I ignored it for a home
And a life with my wife.


We climb each day for a bucket of water;
We can hardly even feed our baby daughter.
Jenny's her name, her brother Joe's on the way.
What would they choose?  Would they choose the same?


But our families ok, they won't know that they’re slaves.
They'll love life at home and they'll visit our graves.
We must teach them, nothing of what we know,
For they would grow to hate us and then they would go.


Our house is just fine, with the orchards of wine.
A family business for a hundred years,
Their lives will be the same.
Never wanting for anything, they will have all they want;
But they can never leave, for this is our spot,
Where my mother gave birth, like her mother before;
As will Jenny, as did I and as will many more.


For life is a circle, what goes around comes around.
Repeating history, is what we have found,
To work for generations, our family has survived.
We’re born here.
We live here.
And it's here that we die.


(C)2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey May 2018
Zero heroes


Whatever happened to the heroes?
Those that we used to adore.
I need somebody to tell me,
Where do they go when they’re about to fall?


Whatever happened to the heroes?
Where are they now?  Nobody knows.
Where did they all choose to go?
I guess I lost all my heroes.
They all seem to fade away in the end.
Whatever happens to the ego’s?
When we decide they have let us down.
I guess things will never be the same again; oh no.


We were surrounded by infamy,
But now they’re all so sweet; no-one is angry.
They’re all so nice it makes me want to scream!
Get back on your star and let us once more dream.
Why does this happen to our heroes?
We want to love them like we did all those years ago.
But something happens to our heroes;
No more shouting loud, they’re all so mellow.
Whatever happened to our heroes?
They change with time; they all fall or die.
Our heroes change in our life time;
I wish I could go back and see them in their prime…
I want to go back in time.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Anggun Russell May 2018
It is not the world that is unfair,
but the people are.
The more power they gain,
the greedier they become.
Justice, seems to be just a word.
If only this life were a movie where the heroes would win and the villains would lose within 2 hours.
Scarlet McCall May 2018
I am lost in the forest;
show me the path.
I’m exposed on the mountain;
take me from the storm’s wrath.
I’m on the side of the road--
don’t let bad guys stop.
I’m a prisoner at home,
waiting for you to get a cop.
The whirlwind surrounds me;
be my eye in the storm.
Take me out of the blizzard
to your home safe and warm.
Children adopted by the wrong people, and so many others who need help.
SP Allan Apr 2018
A history painted in tears
With shades of blood
Tales of sacrifice told  
Under unclear night skies
A life given that we could live
A people forsaken  
Their dreams our reality
Aa Harvey Apr 2018
Our protectors from the storm.


Come shed a tear, for our fallen sons.
Our friends; our children; our brothers in arms.
Our army of deceased heroes;
Our protectors in the storm.


Our love, our life, our hope and future,
Has been washed away
And for what reason we cannot decipher.
But we trust in the Lord, to take care of them all;
The one’s who made it back
And the one’s that had to fall.
The one’s who fought and won our war;
Our protectors in the storm.


So I wish upon this starry, starry night,
That God had not sent his angels into flight,
To retrieve the souls of the fallen;
The lives that were too short and stolen.
From us as dust is now to dust,
The ashes have blown away
And so now have our protectors from the storm.


Why Lord?  Why did they have to go?
Why Lord did you cause us all, so much sorrow?
Why Lord, why my son and not another?
Why Lord?  Why not me, instead of my brother?


He was a hero, I was a survivor;
I cannot protect my family, from the storm.
For this war has taken all our lives;
The ones who live, too are no more.


(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Lora H A Apr 2018
Your voice filtered into my veins,
I feel your soul
screaming making no sense at me.

I draw hard reality
I´m fated to make noise.
In this hypocrisy
covered in silence.

We use to be heroes,
and now it´s us
who are need to be saved.

Interesting irony,
understand life´s game.
Realize that we are just players.

-Losing games.
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