Sleep, again, tired warrior
for your heart is wearing and your troubles have exhausted you
your staggering soul pleas for a pause, do you hear?
Just a pause, at that, and some moments to rest.

I’ve spent too long
locked in this dark
tower
Thinking myself a
damsel in need of
rescue.
But I’m remembering now
I’m a warrior
And capable of
saving myself.

An arrow has been broken,
Without being broken,
Near the Great Walls,
Wondering how that happen?
Could it be the Great Warrior?

The broken arrow can aim still,
With its powerful strength of the,
Great
Warrior,
Which can be its own weapon.

When will the Great Warrior fix the broken arrow?
What can the Warrior do to keep the arrow alright?
Just keep its safety and strong.

Now that it is fix,
Then Great Warrior will have no more,
Broken Arrows left to use,
But to be the Great Warrior of the world.








Just keeping the arrow strong and
Fix properly.

The guise of a false hope warily cloaks
an unkempt soul bereft of fortitude -
stolid in the belligerent face of unnamed evil,
an aura of past opulence adulterates naive purity,
the stigma augmented by an insidious breach

of internal asylum. The vulnerability of
a soldier against oneself takes precedence
in the chasmal crusade yet to come; omniscient
intimation gives way to dour prophecies,
ambidextrous in their intricate verbosity.

Molten in the inferno of cross-interrogation,
pliable in the hands of a mortared veteran,
reiteration serves only as a gibe, a grievance
only the most foolish jester would make
before a corroding monarch. The demons

have rallied for annihilation; the starling
warbles an aria of capitulation, its notes
reverberating through the tentative sunset,
a sky of gray and orange mingling with the song
to convey an unequivocal defeat. But after every

dusk comes a period of resurrection, and from the haze
emerges a heroine unrecognizable if not for eyes
ablaze with scarred determination. She strides
with the strength of ten thousand legions, a leviathan's
courage uncovered in her still-beating heart.

The devil flees, uncomfortable in the blinding presence
of mortal accompanied by heavenly body. This -
this is redemption for armor lost, the answer
to her yearning prayers that had been barely audible over the
convulsing sobs that had swallowed her for so long.

Finally vanquished of the toxic beast that had claimed her,
she rises victorious, proclaiming amidst glory a single word -
“Checkmate.”

if you wish to be a warrior prepare to be broken.
if you wish to be a explorer prepare to get lost, and if you wish to be a lover prepare to be both.
to be a lover meaning you possess a feeling, a spell or desire.
that irresistible urge to be with someone.
that heavenly union, that destiny conspires.
to be a lover takes strength like a warrior. such as loving a person, even when they gave you a thousand reasons not to. to be a lover takes some exploring. a mere attachment, or infatuation. a bond or a yearning? getting lost on what loves really means.
to be a lover we sometimes seek what it means when all its about is, the intermingling of 2 souls, come together to form a whole. we look to deeply to decipher love to code the way in which the caged creature works,
we learn, get hurt, grow love, repeat.
to ever extract its true essence is tough...
Are you ready to be a lover?

new from sat 24th april back to Sandman
into a Lycan,a Viking-a Bearsark warrior beast,
to rip the hearts from my enemies and then just feast,
run through the forest with the rest of my pack,
Howling at the moon,rolling on the snow on my back(pack,back,Pack,in the back,pack in the back ..gradually louder then quiet)...
but in the back of the red mist was a small voice,
at first I ignored this little pup by choice,
but he nipped at my hindbrain pulled on my tail,
until I listened to his reason **WE CAME FOR THE FEMALE
Suddenly the bloodlust left with a bang,
no longer a Beast I felt less than a Man,
the scene before my eyes is hard to put to words,
I was blood drenched the dismembered pieces of the herd(no! GANG-you're a man)I had just been among,
lay around the damp dungeon from whence they had come
even the most hardened warrior would have flinched at the sight
of the remains,the brains,the silent ones who didn't fight,
but one body was missing from the pile of the dead,
one beautiful corpse white afflicted already dead
***** with an itch had escaped by a trap door,
now my destiny is War,and it was trapped in the floor