Onward trudges the old warrior, on his hands and knees in pain.
Through hardship and loss, sorrow and grief, over and over again. Through the darkest of nights, and the blistering days, through the muck and the mire of rain. He prays he can stop, take a break from his quest, a reprieve from the nerve wrenching pain. But onward he pushes on sore bleeding hands in hopes of escaping this place where he lives, known as the “Great Wastelands.” He’s been moving forward for all of his life, but the borders they just never change. No matter how far or long that he travels, it’s somehow always the same. There’s places so bleak it’s an assault to the mind, And can nearly drive you insane, but there’s beauty and peace when expected the least, but it is always fading away. The dark shades the furthest corners, that can’t hold or reflect light, or you can walk in the sunshine for many a day, but you’re never far from the night. So trudge forward brave and battered soul, If peace is what you’re hoping to find, But just remember there is really no end. To these “wastelands” we keep in our minds.
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We the proud and peaceful people, the people of the land. Our home, the great open plans. Our people seek only to honor, the Great Mother, the land on which we live. Woman, children, our old, our brave, we are many, but we are few. They come in peace, so they say. The whites and their Chief. When all is said and done, my people the old the young the woman and braves, now lay still on the snow covered ground. My people have all crossed over. We are no more.
We were young men all, eager to honor our country, proud and brave. There they stood, by the side of the road, the poor the sick, peaceful and proud. He gave the order, free them all, we looked at each other, hearts pounding. Do it now, he yelled, we did our duty for honor. The trench dug, the area cleared. Orders followed, A village gone. The peaceful stood on the gently sloping ground, arms locked and love in their hearts. Proud to band together against the injustices of war. To show there is a better way. As always, as in the past, they come. The fresh young faces, and their chief. They say they come in peace, when all is over four lie dead. Does it ever change, can we never learn? Will the power of love, ever become stronger than the love of power. or are we to proud? At the zoo, all joy and fun, mama
Mama can I feed the seals, please please Please. But there’s only one fish and two seals Mama why did you hit me I only bit the Fish in half so I could feed them both. The house is so lonely these days, I wish I could leave it but I can’t, Too scared, too shaky, wife and family All gone, I really hate being alone Sitting in the hospital room drinking Water out of one of those cheap plastic Pitchers. My best friends gone, I’ll miss You dad, well at least I won’t have to Sit here anymore. Here I sit on the park bench, I wonder Where all the time has gone. Check out all The birds on the telephone line, Its so Weird bird, bird, bird – space bird, bird Space, space, bird, bird space, and so it Goes all the way down the line I sure wish someone wouldn’t have Shot all those missing birds *Dedicated to: The Dreamers,
My brother inmates, and all those Who dream of freedom Once I was in a place where all things Were possible Once I was in a place where a person Had no limits and could reach for the sky Once I was in a place where there was Adventure around every corner Where safety and security was wherever you Made it so. Once I was in a place where food and drink Was abundant, where people smiled and laughed With you, not at you. Where hope was eternal, and love and Peace was yours if you wanted it. This place was not in a dream, and it was Not heaven, it was as real as this day. I was in this place once, where is this Land of wonder you ask? Why it’s just on the other side of this fence Winter winds can fan the embers, bitter cold can
Kill the flame. I’ve seen the spark of life within us, I’ve watched From the distance a violent blaze Never have I felt the heat of life’s passion I’ve always lived life outside the circle, To have been in its light, but never its warmth. Love has always been the iceberg which destroyed My vessel. When I was young I could see the sparks, but Icy tendrils always encumbered my soul. Now life is short, and my heart feels Like cold winter embers, no heat left, no spark to kindle The flame. Just once in this life I would have loved to feel The heat from inside the circle and its warm embrace. But now and forever all I have left is the Encircling comfort of the cold |
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