You're nothing but a blur as you pass me,
but there was something special about the way you moved.
It struck me like how lightning strikes a tree,
and leaves it to burn from the inside out.
I think I remember you.

Forgive me for stopping you here,
but I swear we have met before.
Didn't we once sit under the tree that we held so dear
in our young hearts, by the banks of the sluggish, brown river?
Do you remember me?

Your eyes stare back at me so blankly
and I felt my heart sink like those stones we once skipped
drowning in the sluggish waters when you said so frankly
that you have never seen me before.
And yet I remember you.

Why do I remember you
when you don't remember me?

Some went West
and others went East.
The ones in between
found they liked South the least.

The traitorous winds
carried news from the mouth
of a stranger who wandered
the dreaded South.

They said:

"Glory and war in the West.
Peace and sacrifice in the East.
The North holds freedoms and complex rules.
The South has no time for such duels."

Those of the West,
those of the East,
and the Northern inbetweeners
listened with incredulity.

But the Southerner just repeats:

"Glory and war in the West.
Peace and sacrifice in the East.
The North holds freedoms and complex rules.
The South has no time for such duels."

"If we fight not for glory,
then why fight at all?
War is a necessary evil!"
Those Westerners say, how uncivil.

"Peace cannot yield
without sacrifice.
Someone always has to lose their life!"
Easterners cry full of strife.

"Freedoms are protected
if you follow the rules.
Speech must be regulated, calm, and cool."
Said from those under Northern rule.

But the Southerner repeats like a record loop:

"Glory and war in the West.
Peace and sacrifice in the East.
The North holds freedoms and complex rules.
The South has no time for such duels."

Then the wind finally stopped
spreading its message.
But the lofty seeds that traveled with the wind,
planted themselves in places they've never been.

And they started to grow into something more.
Freedoms and rules.
Peace and sacrifice.
Glory and War.

I wander trails that are shaded by trees
until I reach the first steep rock scramble.
Walking steadily on old, crunchy leaves
I believe it's the mountains' preamble

I scale these rocks with eager hands and feet
my yearning heart pumps blood through my blue veins.
This mountain will not hand me my defeat
muscles strain and the rocks help break my chains.

Sturdy rocks and sacred trees surround me
their presence strengthens my weak, depressed bones.
My muscles burn with effort, but I'm free
to become one with the trees and the stones.

Though there are times where my mind may plummet.
I'll survive the fall, I've reached the summit.

I see you've made another enemy,
but this time it is different.
Isn't it?
You're battling for relevancy.
Maybe this time they'll stick around
They'll be the needle that you need.
The drug for your veins' vanity,
addicted to each other's greed.
You crave each other's attention,
wanting that toxicity,
that makes you so well-known.
The drama for your soul.
Because peace can't exist without war,
so keep chasing them you fame *****.
Making your own enemies!
Fighting battles in the streets!