The Kalos Region now upheld as fair,
From ancient days an ugly past doth bear.

The woes of War did knock on every door,
Till man nor 'mon could take much more,
Three thousand years ago, upon this shore.

So many lives were lost - both man and 'mon,
It seemed a night that ne'er would bring dawn.

No beauty, no joy in those days of yore,
Only the pain of parting was in store,
For victims of the Ancient Kalos War.

Man's grief brought The End, the land did tear,
Wartime finished in a lightning flare.

'Mons rage brought The End, a furious roar,
Lightning crackled forth to end the war,
Kalos' long pain was then no more.

One man, through it all, lives ever on,
To a 'mon once lost, he's ever drawn.

One man, through it all, lives ever on,
Searching for his heart, long lost and gone.

I was born in 1990,
Only 8 days shy of 1991.

Still, I am Generation Y.

She was born in 2000,
Nearly 6 weeks into it.

She's Generation Z.

Still, she responded to me,
Actually her mother did.

The matrimonial ad.

My parents had flashed it,
In a timely manner, they hoped,
That I can be married.

So, I went to their home,
I liked her for her youth.
And of course her eyes.

She was truthful and frank too.
She told me what she wanted,
She wanted a mature man.

When I told her that I was an artist,
She loved my poetry,
And commended my creations.

Soon that 'misunderstanding' happened,
And the Miss felt she was standing under,
To equate herself with me, she berated me.

Oh, I do want to marry her still,
Because in her I see a lot of potential,
But she'll have to change her behaviour.

And as she can't change,
Things she will have to realise.
I don't think that she can apologise.

There's a generation gap between us,
And the next generation can't say sorry,
Or just accept their mistake with humility.

I don't know where I'm supposed to be
but I know where I'm posed to be
a solo diver floating free
flowing
with the open sea
embracing waves
embracing rain
embracing whirling winds of change
surrendering
to Heaven's gaze
soaking in the pearly rays

The wolf cries the Raven flies
down valley long portents are strong
Of coming battle where foe I meet
from dreams of old while I did sleep.
Of valley dark with shadow long
through mists I march
    through waiting throng.

Behold the vanquished red eyed throng
bare witness to my passage long
These lost souls likely did come
but failed and fell and joined the throng.

Through many years my path has led
to culminate in what I dread
unvanquished foe I now must meet
though fear beset my tired feet

So on I march the valley long
through mists and shadow and red eyed throng.
Under Ravens eye past cry of wolf
I seek the foe my fate has brought

Should I survive this day of dread
to climb the hill at valleys end
May I find peace that blessed day,
To finally know I've found my way

The ground is dimpled with different footprints
large and small
deep and shallow
human and animal
Some have more depth than others ever could
having walked miles and miles.

To be light on ones toes
is a characteristic
of those not old
of those not tired
or of those who are sneaking.
I'm not sure how to decipher these prints.

But we can learn much from the steps of others.

There is truth in how we walk
with strong, deep steps
or light strides
weighted with experience
or floating in the feeling of living.

The reason behind the steps we take in life
are sometimes never known
are sometimes never noticed
we keep our heads down
but we don't see that we're walking
on a path that has been walked before.

How come we walked like this?
Who walked and tripped?
Who stepped in the trap?
How did the earth disappear beneath them?

These footprints are ancient,
preserved to reach a modern time
but their reasons were left far behind.

Sometimes we are left with all the evidence.
Sometimes we have all the facts,
but none of the reasons.
Sometimes we vow to find those reasons.
Sometimes we are content to let it remain unknown.