I laid the body wounded from war,
marking the pain of bleeding scar,
they drip no blood but crying word,
scream of whys is all can be heard.

This warrior fought without a gun,
the sword was laid on the ground.
Flew in the war without a shield,
embracing the fires of the field.

The warzone is silent and cold,
daylight is starting to fold,
omitted gore has no trace,
but agony and pain mantled the face.

Alone, the warrior stood with yielding feet,
the armored belligerent took their seat.
They watched this warrior drown with tears,
their laughter bit the bleeding ears.

The archenemies took off their casque,
these are faces of the warrior's past.
Hopelessly he fell on his knee,
looking at the grinning enemies.

Armored with the sharpest sword,
strengthen by their greatest lord.
They rumbled drums with deafening sound,
plotting the line of the warrior's bound.

The warrior faced the strongest foes,
murmur of vicious wind starts to blow.
No armor can block the slashing assaults,
as these are words comes like a lighting bolt.

Words stabs deeper than a pointed knife,
blotching doubt in warrior's life.
Painted the warzone with unwanted shade,
every glimpse of light starts to fade.

The warrior with no hope to win,
carried darkness with tattered skin.
You can't win against yourself,
they will reveal voices left in the shelf.

The warrior dwelled in the cold and dark cell,
fall of the tears in every hit of the bell.
Tired of the biting lullabies marching like a band.
The white flag was raised with trembling hand.

Have you ever looked at yourself in the
mirror and you just can't recognize yourself?
Yeah, those are my eyes,
and my nose,
and my lips...
Physically, that is me. I see my body
unhindered.
But there is a phantom there nonetheless-
haunting what is supposed to be
me.
It's like I am here, with all of you
and I am laughing and telling the story of
that one time... Always "that one time."
There are thousands of "that one time stories" I tell
you the way I want you to hear them
but never the way I want to tell them,
Yes, there's the facts but can you sense any of the emotion?
"But how did that make you feel?"
how did that make you feel?
Six words I've never heard
but six words I ask myself every day
A question I ask but I can never bring myself to answer.
A question so straightforward has become my archenemies
and something so simple has become so complicated.
And maybe that's why I can't answer, or won't.
The answer may be easy, but the truth,
the truth is difficult.
I don't know the exact words
or how to make you understand
It's like I'm suffocating and my breathing is
getting harder and harder, heavier and heavier.
I don't know if this is what it feels like to drown
or get buried alive...
but maybe subtract the water and dirt
and replace it with words, and I could imagine
it is.
All of the words left unspoken
and silenced,
the phrases I've kept hidden in my locked chest filled with
secrets and lies
the sentences I've tried to deny to the world, to every astral plane,
and to the demons I've allowed to take residence inside my very core.
I know there's such thing as a pill much too large to swallow,
but nowhere in my mind did I know that silence fit the expression perfectly.
And perfectly,
The words I could never utter I consumed- and alike I've swallowed one too many.
And now my eyes stare bloodshot,
my nose breathe like that in a doldrums state,
and my lips purse blue and frozen.
Internally, everything is shutting down.
So yes, when I see myself in the mirror,
the figure is familiar but I do not know
that reflection.
So when I look in the mirror,
I do not see me-
Instead, I see a visitor
overstaying a visit.
A visitor
longing nothing more
than a tranquil release back into
the current.

all is worthy
of our courtesy
whether it's an ally,
or those we deem
as archenemies;
whether it's admiration,
or malevolence
—do not shame
your honour
for something
not even worth
your time and;
let kindness
ablaze your heart.

—A.R Sinclaire