You're only as strong
knowing your greatest weakness
If man knows not what they fight for,
why must he fight at all?

An open palm to aid the people,
closed one to protect things most cherished.

To force another to fight their battles,
shouldn't be as so.
One who cannot fight battles within them,
cannot fight the many more battles outwards.
If man knows not what they fight for,
why must he fight at all?

But if by any chance
one could win a war without fighting
and spilling blood
He'd be a fool not to take it.

One must know the worth
of what they fight for
to truly value it of it's all.

Be it,
family, integrity, ambitions or cause.
One fights with all that he has.
And only gives up
if they no longer have the strength of Lord.

someone once said,
a negative mind will never give you a positive life,
but that is itself a negative thought,
which must be the product of a negative mind,
if it is true, it's false,
and if it is false, it's true,
but what identifies a princess is not a tiara but a shoe,
or, positively said,
a negative mind will give you a positive life,
for to live uncritically
is indistinguishable from being dead

Listen,
if stars are still lit it means there is someone who needs them.
It means someone wants to love,
Why then do we feel so much pain and heaviness of heart?
are we waiting for something, regretting anything?
To whom I can strech out my hand in the somber desert?
Who will accompany me on the empty night?
Who will give me a fiery day?
Who will bring back the sea that left?
No hope here. Torment is certain.
Without sacredness in the emptiness of this world of ours,
the heart of man fades like a flower.  
Suddenly, the shuddering of the heavens penetrating my soul,
Oh never let the parting sun, no star is ever lost we once have seen, the long rains will continue to fall.

She's a star that fades not, even in daylight
Sun that shines bright in the pitch of the night
an exhilarating adventure on an endless path
an antique jewel of tremendous worth.
She's the calm after a ferocious storm
a mystic place metamorphosed into an affable home
a fragrant red rose in the rain with some bit of thorns
yet a clear pond carpeted by a ballet of snow white swans
She's classical music harmoniously retailed by a violin
tectonics whose cosmic shifts made my melancholic existence spin
a euphonic crescendo of hope that finally entrapped
the cacophonous diminuendos of my despair
She's an ice cold drink on a sweltering day, a breath of fresh air...
a durable canvas upon which I've drawn life lessons
an intricate piece of heaven, she's an artistic impression.

Internal battles meant to be discounted
And anxieties rumored as dismounted
While nothing could have amounted
To the tales within those mountains
Regarded and enabled as fountains
Of flowing wisdom which hasn’t counted
The melody of life yet to be sounded
A treasure seemed and well-rounded