Flying ******
Red torn across the horizon
A broken foot stains the sky
Achilles limps

Autumn auburn
Middle fear
Lost love
Waning warmth

Fore-splintered earth
Great spires of the West
No matter wind or cloud
The sun rests beneath the mountain

I've gained a taste for feathers

The stars twinkle above my head
illuminating the trees

As I walk this lonely road
No stares are on me
For I am invisible

Only darkness knows my name

No match or no candle to guide me home

I am lost in this world

I reach for the stars but I can never get there

But I keep going along this path

I am my legacy
I am my legend
And I will light up this darkness no matter how hard it is

Just light up the darkness
Light up the darkness

If each and every grain were a
Year,
Than every knock would be an
Episode,
So came the story that is my
Door.

And,

One – was the loudest pound,
“Authority,”
When the P.D.’d nearly warped
Hinge,
So came my first night in the
Clink.

Two, three, and four – Love, only
Love,
And one of two later;
SLAM!
Or one silent escape, fled and
Sundered.

Five – was the knock that never came.

Six – “tap, tap, tap,”
Mom,
It must have been my mom, or rather,
Obligation
And she’d swear to my sisters, “he’s
Ok.”

Seven, eight, and nine – Deliveries,
Disguise,
Pizza, Chinese, pizza and not so
Famished
Anymore; fuel for the guts, guzzle for the
Words.

Ten – came a' “gamechanger,”
Tear-smeared-mascara,
And two hands atop your
Abdomen;
I knew atop the water your freckles,
You’d never need knock again.

So if each and every grain were a
Year,
Than every knock would be an
Episode,
And this would be the story, that’d ever
Be our door.

The woman of power, of the final hour,
Stood upon the gaping edge of death,
Savoring her final due breath,
Recollecting her spent time, as the demons beneath, did climb.

The woman, once unknown, many must atone,
With a simple display, she tore the lights that held the night at bay,
For nothing as powerful as she, should anyone but agree,
Resting upon her belt, the stars forever dwelt.

The woman, demur of the end, a challenge to death, she had penned,
A game, we shall partake, with eternal lives at stake,
For if I do not wish to die, your purpose, you must defy,
With a stolen piece, her years did increase.

The woman of blackened markings, her mind of ever-workings,
Stood tall upon her mare, chased with twisting white hair,
Upon her belt, rested pouched treasures, glittering fondly with pleasure,
For her company never to shake, as her pale eyes did forever take.

She was the woman of Cree, far beyond The Black Ink Sea,
The taker of stars, leaving naught but empty scars,
She was the winning player of Death's Game, her rewards, to gain,
With the twisting marks of power, deep to the pit, she did glower.

For nothing of its sort,
Shall ever hold her short,
From any a task within her aim,
A woman such as I, victory shall I claim.

And with that thought dancing across her mind,
She leapt, and left the mortal world behind.

I remember the cold breeze blow into your face..
Your Red Shirt waiving whilst your on it..
Then the Camera focussed..
From the Green Grass to the back of your shirt..
Number 8..
And I knew I was looking at
My Legend..
My hero..
You'll Never Walk Alone they sang..
It gave me Goose bumps instantly!

I've never failed to miss a game to watch you since then..
To watch you play.. To watch Liverpool Play..
And then they sang your name..
You AWED me with
Joy and Goose Bumps!
You will be missed dearly..
But as you move on to better challenges..
Remember you Sir,
Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart..
You'll Never Walk Alone!

-Shahzaad Zahirsha

You must shout your name
into the abyss!
Not to hear it echo back,
but so it may exist.