#zelda
Sit oh weary traveler,
Who hath come a long way
To hear the lost legend
Of that one fateful day
In the town of the kingdom
A young man wakes to morning light
To an unknown adventure
Oblivious of his upcoming fight
The man’s name is Link
Exploring the kingdom
Outside of the village
Glad for his freedom
The cool, brisk wind
Seems to be calling him
A galloping horse, a run in the grass
And he arrives at a castle, unsettlingly dim
A whisper from the dark
Voicing his name
He enters the castle
Emotions so tame
A figure out of the shadows
Flies into the hero’s arms
The princess Zelda, in dismay
Tells him of many morbid harms
Embracing her friend she tells
“Ganon is here” says she
“And if we don’t do anything,
He’ll come to capture me.”
“That’s true,” says a voice
“I will, right now,
I am Ganondorf
I’ll have the throne, I vow.”
The hiss of a sword
Escaping its sheath
Link swings at the villain
The floor rumbling beneath
The shriek of metal
Clashing against its own
A fierce battle
Between hearts of flesh and stone
As Link fights for his life
And Ganon for the throne
Zelda is in the corner
Fighting herself alone
Link is knocked back
Into the princess
But she heals his wounds
With her tenderness
He gets back up
Link, fire in his eyes
Dashes forward to swing his sword
One last time
A quick strike
And Ganon is down
Link has saved the princess
And Hyrule Town
This is the legend
That happened long ago
At the fields of Hyrule
Where clear rivers flow
Mar 9
Mar 9, 2026 at 7:16 AM UTC
not your fault
I was immature
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry
for not apologizing sooner
you deserve better
this is not because of you.
Nov 8, 2025
Nov 8, 2025 at 10:11 PM UTC
These days I’ve been looking to the past, to all the women before me. The revolutionaries whose words helped shape the way I see the world; the way I see nature; the way I see simple, ordinary pleasures of life become extraordinary.
These days I let my pen flow freely across the page. I look to all the women before me for guidance because I find myself afraid to speak my own truth. They teach me with words how to live presently, never looking back because there’s no room for mistakes to reside here.
These days we’re on a first name basis. With wide-eyed clarity, all the women before me allow a short glimpse of them as they once were: bright young things full of hope with a cigarette loosely balanced between faded red lips and hands that move deftly over a typewriter. The room is filled with cigarette smoke and incense. I can almost smell it now but the vision is gone with the wind.
These days I seek out: Zelda; Sylvia; Anne; Emily; Joan; Virginia. To all the women before me, I have found you. They’re no longer a black and white still photograph or a short film reel. In those moments, they stay forever young etched in time from decades ago.
These days I welcome you all in my waking dreams. To all the women before me, you are not lingering ghosts being passed by unseen. You are not remembered for how you left this earth but for how, after all this time, you still remain unchanging.
Oct 24, 2023
Oct 24, 2023 at 10:50 AM UTC
I've always dreamed of adventure, but now, I'm not so sure.
I grew up playing video games and playing pretend in the woods.
What I would've given to be Link with my own legendary quest.
But these are turbulent times.
Between my anxiety and the businessman-president and his blue-bird threats and the media, honestly, I'd rather curl up in a ball and stay inside my house forever.
But the truth is, no one ever caught a crocodile by hiding in their
house.
It takes real bravery.
And while I've got problems staring me down like I'm deadmeat,
I've got to be a crocodile hunter. I have to.
It's the only way to free the princess trapped inside.
Feb 23, 2021
Feb 23, 2021 at 10:29 PM UTC
A tiny flower swayed silently in the wind.
He knelt and cupped the blue petal in his hand.
A voice he didn't recognise echoed in his ear.
A tear fell from his eye, but he didn't know why.
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 8:16 PM UTC
Every morning when I hide my untie
Turn on a podcast out the door
And stumble through the cold
In my secretly Italian coat
I leave with coffee
Hot poured with opinions over sleep
And my inner child switches on the N64
Pours hinself some chocolate milk
And gloats
Holding his eternal freedom over me
Jan 30, 2020
Jan 30, 2020 at 8:56 PM UTC
If you knew this was your last day on earth,
would you spend it wisely with complete worth?
Honestly I’m scared of what my answer would be,
If I’d wallow in regret or just check out early.
Once you’ve breathed fresh air,
how do you go back to drowning?
In my youth I could never care
but lately I’m always frowning.
I tried to **** every single brain cell,
I no longer wished for feelings of thought,
no one asked so I never got to tell,
all these lingering regrets that I’ve got.
Dawn of the final day.
the sun arrives but will never stay.
Twenty four hours remain,
my death rattle will be in vain.
Long ago I lost hope in salvation,
and my dreams were trampled for belief,
so I dressed it up in mindless intoxication,
oh, how well it decorated my eternal grief.
How do I explain that the reason I’m leaving,
was the same reason that I stayed?
I’m tired of starving and done with dry heaving,
it feels like my internal organs have been flayed,
and put out on display.
Once you feel the sun rise,
how do you return back to the night?
When defeat’s visible in your eyes,
‘cause mind and body are both done with the fight.
I tried to **** every single brain cell,
yet there’s still more than enough left to haunt me,
will they survive the fall out, only time will tell,
I have a feeling one will remain only to keep taunting.
Dawn of the final day,
knees were made for grovelling not to pray.
Twenty four hours remain,
maybe time can fit in some rain.
I’m never happy with what life gives me
though I admit I haven’t been given much.
I feel only coldness in my surroundings,
but have felt warmth from a strangers touch.
Everyday I think “this is the end
I can’t possibly keep on going”
My spine broken before it could bend,
and I was plucked before I started growing.
So drag my corpse to the ocean
‘cause it was always my dream for there to rest,
I’ll die drowning in every emotion,
but only sadness will fill my chest.
Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 7:58 PM UTC
I’m in a cave. I can barely see. I don’t know how long it’s been. I think it’s been years. It’s a labyrinth of sorts. Tunnels everywhere. Every few rooms, there is a ladder leading up or down. These, I call “ladder rooms” If there is a pattern, I do not see it. Most rooms have only tunnels to the left or right. Some, only up or down, and others, have tunnels that both lead forward, two, side by side, I label them A and B going left to right. I only take the A paths. I go through the first tunnel, a large arch. A ladder room. I go up. Left or right? Left. Right or left? Right. I find a round room with a feral Horse chained to the wall. Mouth foaming. It kicks towards me, gnashing its teeth. I leave it alone and continue. A or B room. I choose A. A ladder room. I go down. Dead end. I go back up the ladder and I feel something drip. I wipe my face, water. Rain? It suddenly pours. Water coming from thin air. An indoor Storm. I’m onto something, I can feel it. There’s more to this. I go through the A tunnel. Ladder room. I go down. Left or Right? I go right and see light. My heart jumps. I suddenly get dizzy. The walls around me start melting and I see… A large arch. I’m back at the beginning. The first room. What a waste of Time. I’m losing hope. I decide to alternate left and right until I’m forced to go down whenever I reach a ladder room. If it doesn’t matter anyway, why not be random with it? Right, Left, Ladder. Down. Right, Left, another ladder. Down. I see light again. But the light is soft, and pink. I see waves around me. “Not again”, I say out loud but, all the sudden, I feel invigorated. I feel ready. Healed. My waist feels just a little heavier. I look, clipped to my belt, a Mask, and an Instrument of some kind. The instrument is labeled “up” “down” “left” “right” and “A”. I play the instrument. Like a flute, but not quite. Left, right, A. I hear a horse. The Horse. It hears me. It’s running. No escape. I see it, and… It stops. The horse is not gnashing its teeth, not kicking at me. No longer feral, the horse is calmed. She lets me ride her. I wear the mask. A little pointy, uncomfortable, I can’t see out of the eye holes very well, but I feel like this is important. I play again. A, down, up… nothing. A, down, up, again and… water, rain, a Storm! Time… maybe… I play. Left, A, down. Nothing. Left, A, down… Dizzy. Head. Hurts. Ground… Cold. I look around. I’m at the beginning. No horse, but the mask is on my belt again. Another waste of Time… Or was it, conservation of time? I play again. Left, right, down, left, right, down. Horse. I play. Left, right, down, left right down, pink light. I feel much better. Something… shining in the light. In a dark corner, I see a gemstone, it softly glows as I approach. I touch it, it glows more. I strike it, it glows intensely. I gather my strength. I hit the gemstone as hard as I can. Blinding light, grating stone, the wall opens. Freedom, finally. In the light, I can see myself. Clean. Clothes not torn, tucked in. But… How long have I been here if I’m… Clean… I step out of the cave. It’s beautiful. A forest, a song. Right, left, up, right, left, up. I’ll remember that. I step through a large, hollow log. A village. And a boy. Green clothes. And a fairy. I put on the mask, and wave. He smiles. We play in the forest. I show him my instrument. He’s shocked. Or is it... scared? He takes it. Looks at it. He looks at me, I’m confused. “You can have it”, I say. “It’s special”. He looks at me, and smiles again. He gives me a flute. It’s simpler, but somehow… Better, I think. I play the song I heard before. Right, left, up, right, left, up. I’m happy.
Was happy. Until the mask started talking.
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 12:29 PM UTC
Soft strung on mourning dew
Moon-lit nights stung, chasing you.
Evanescent upon thin waking lids
The pages burnt with nitrogen.
The aching echo, overbearing hollow
Dusty ash. An after taste.
Not tear enough to hardly swallow-
Or stomach left to try to sate.
The pillars-statues-all in our name
Bleached out hero's in history's game.
Naught plight enough to recall how human
Our blood-our tears-stained our face.
We legends born from pleading minds-
Broken spirits and battered limbs.
Who seek to finally cease the crime-
To bring back the light-wash out the dim.
Give our strength-are cast in shadow
To drive the ghost that haunt the land
Back to their own, bleak bloodied meadow
With our hearts-grasped tightly-in their hands.
The rest is but a washed out vision.
The lull of peace saturates the land.
But you and I have been ripped open and swallowed
As the lion now scarified to the lamb.
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 6:26 PM UTC
Day to night,
Dark to light,
Fall the sands of time.
Let the years,
Like the gears,
Of a clock unwind.
In your mind,
Walk through time,
Back to better days.
Memories,
Like a dream,
Wash tears away.
Like a star in the sky,
Darkness can't reach you.
Light the night,
Joy is light,
Till the new dawn.
Cast away your old face,
Let go your spite.
With this mask,
I'll ask,
To borrow your light.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 2:00 PM UTC