Wall, Wall, Walls, I love Walls
Let's build some more walls
Here wall, there wall
Everywhere wall wall

Existing walls are not enough
More walls are a necessity
Fools, I am not talking about walls of room
I Know, they are enough for you and me

Even if they are not, I don't care
House and homes are your private affairs
I do give regards to your freedom
I don't interfere with walls of your room

I am not going to shell out a penny
For your homes and rooms, honey
I have much more to think and do
I have to make much more walls

Walls on the open lands, walls on borders
It will save us from our enemies
It will save us from terrorist and drugs
Human traffickers too, only fear the walls

You morons, why don't you understand
It will save us from illegal immigrants
I mean the animals and birds of foreign lands
Entering in our country without proper visa

If you still feel, the walls are enough
Be assured, I will demolish them all
Then rebuild new magnificent walls
All walls will become a masterpiece.

We can opt for walls of iron and concrete
Even we can go for walls, made of pure steel
A new history of walls need to be written
Walls, walls everywhere, here wall, there wall

I will even try to build the wall between peoples
Wall between open hearts, Open minds
Wall between open thoughts and thinking
I vow to work for the walls, I love Walls

I am not roses and champagne
Or birds on a sunshiney morning
I am not high heels and pretty dresses and bright colors
I am not the girl with a positive comeback to every little thing in life
I am not the person who you can look at in the early morning hours and find sleeping like an angel in your arms as you caress my cheek in the early sunlight

I am strong and independent
I am determined
I may not be champagne and rose
But I am steel and whiskey
I am as strong as steel and can take some of the strongest heat
I am whiskey because you'll remember my exact tones and hints even after I am long gone
I am the woman with an optimistic yet realistic comeback for things that happen in your life
I am vans and leggings because, ****, I have places to go a hell of a lot faster than heels can take me
I am most likely stealing the covers at night and if you wake me up before 8am you will get the worst version of myself
I am muted earth tones with hints of sunflower yellows
I am steel
I am not roses and champagne or a bird chirping on a Sunday morning.

Thousands poured into the Great Hall
Waiting
In this haunted, empty room
For something to happen

Nobody sat upon the throne
But order still remained
Maybe it was in the fear
That left them silenced

The throne was industrious
All blunt, sharp lines
Of cold, heartless steel
Fogging up as the peoples’ breaths brushed it

No heat in this desolate hall
Only people’s nervous, frantic heartbeats
Echoed through the room
Marking their place as prey

Footsteps followed
Each step
A quick, sudden staccato
Steady with every beat

The people spun around
Looking for the one that approached them
But there was
No one

Anxiety wrecked through the large hall
Rebounding off of the delicate stone arches
Sailing across the cracked, concrete floor
Filling everyone’s bodies with dread

The footsteps stopped
And their leader materialized onto his cold throne
His gaze held no emotion as he crossed his legs, staring at his people--
Who returned his glare with downturned lids

He bore a crown of silver
Glittering with the madness
Atop a thick forest of black hair
That you could get lost in

His eyes were a dark stormy blue
Appraising his guests
His people
That lay scattered across the hall

A slender frame
Overshadowed by a black velvet cape
And a white collared shirt
Pure of the injuries that he had wronged others

Form fitting grey pants slung tightly over his hips
Along with a matte hand pistol
Further accentuated by his knee high leather boots
That shined with the sweat of a thousand shoe polishers

He was their dictator
They were his people
With a snap
They rose to meet his commands

Without him, they were nothing

He called for disease
Infection spread rampant
the sick fell at his feet

He called for war
The clanging of swords broke out
And wet, hot blood began to coat the slick ground

He called for famine
Hunger gnawed away at the empty, acidic stomachs of the starved
Many fell, glazed eyes betraying their desire for food

He called for death
And suddenly the survivors fell
Only a hundred of the thousand had been left
To die at his feet

The hall was empty of all souls
But one
His

He commanded all that his people could give
And left with nothing to bear
But a single throne
Of cold steel
And an bare skyscraper
With a single, Great Hall

When I first passed the gates
into the metallic garden
stamping out seeds
                      for the junkyard
with its infinite cardiac output

I gazed upon the eyes of the creatures
that inhabited this oily soil
                            of steel and chemicals
all I saw was a cry for help
to escape
          to be away
                just one day
they cry, just one day

I got caught in the claws
and it scratched
                       and scratched
the wounds heal but the scars stay

I have become a trapped animal
                                     with eyes of dismay

There's little chance of escape
I can dream
           I can pray
one day, I echo
               one day

Now I am just taxidermy
for this godforsaken industry
and they call this
quality.

To a sky which showed no sign of light,
Black smoke was rising, from no other than a flagship which sailed across the stormy ocean, Nagato, ready to fight was however at ease.
Until we encountered two enemy ships, a Kongou and a Tirpitz.
Both of them, with a merciless sight fired everything they got, a hard decision was to be made, who shall hit us if we dodge, who shall not?
The Kongou, landed some hits as the sea consumed the others shells,
Just overpenned, lucky for us it seemed, until we re-adjust our angle,
What does the future hold for one who survived but couldn't protect her friends, as the sun no longer rises these memories return.
It didn't take long, the weakspot of one of them was their petty armor,
Kongou sank, spilling her tears into the water she was unable to escape from, another turn was made, it was the final battle, final hope,
Reparing some damage in the little time we had, Nagato drove like an absolute mad man, left, right continuesly just so our ship would not end up like their Kongou, our citadel was an easy target, after  all.
Shells are to be exchanged, smoke escapes from our guns, this lady was refusing to let her life slip away until she at least do what she could, exhausted and almost out of ammo, we landed a lethal strike.
Watching the enemy ship slip away before our eyes, knowing that Nagato was to sail almost into the same fate made us then realise...
Even if the damage could be repaired and parts exchanged, brought anew and even if we make it back in one piece without capsizing:
Forever will be the marks of battle painted in her burnt, wounded steel.

~ Umi

Death, that lonely tarot card.
A silent grim specter
No one wishes to see.
It impinges upon the norm.
Egyptian curses scarier, more real.
Lacelike spider webs, the coldest steel.
Leafless trees, silhouetted against the storm.
Efficiently bringing portentous change.