Some may call me crazy
Some may call me wise
Some may look down on me
Some may look up high
Some may make me suffer
Some may help me heal
Some may show me hatred
Some may show me truth
Some may crush my efforts
Some may give me aid
Some may give me nightmares
Some may give me dreams
Some may laugh
Some may cry
Some may run
Some may die
Some may crush
Some may grow
Some may flood
Some may flow
Some glare
Some stare
Some punch
Some care
Some hate
Some love
Some rein
Some show

It’s rare that I release poetry, especially those that express some inner emotion. This is one of the few that I’ve written that seems fit for others to read.

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Life has its chapters;
whatever you decide.
Whether you be the author,
or the reader of your own life,
is up to you.
But those who decide
the beginning and the end,
will soon realize that
life is an expression
of your inner personality
and deepest truths.
Even those along for the ride,
play a role in their hardships.

Every action you take…
Every emotion you fake…
Every dieing you wake…
Just a plea for help…

Hand in hand the Ronan sleep,
Guard by guard they look and weep,
Skies of darkness fall on all,
Fires burning, life’s last call.

Held in prison, their own land,
Shown a sentence all but glad,
Past the hour children sleep,
Not to wake within this keep.

Each guards’ step would summon fear,
Actions shedding not a tear.
Soulless beasts, as we would call,
Bringing death to us all.

One by one, day and night,
Worthless courage would not fight.
Weakened bodies lay with fear,
Holding their last loved ones dear.

Such did happen until a night,
With a fire, hope did light.
Explosion cast, set us free.
Unsure of safety, we did flee.

Though hope was felt and freedom had,
Nothing saved those hurt so bad.
The mind and body, all so weak,
The Ronans’ future, very bleak.

So cast aside your horrid arms,
With spirit, let those free.
A lesson I hope you have learned,
From the horror that can be.

 This poem was in a way inspired by Edgar Allen Poe’s The Tell Tale Heart.

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 I have a habit of living in the past - I go through memories in my head over and over again. Both good and bad. It’s how I cope - if there’s a bad memory, I relive it until it no longer bothers me or I grow numb to it. If it’s a pleasant memory, I take all I can from it. I enjoy it. Lately (at this time, Aug 2008), I’ve been thinking more of the future. But I still have that certain habit that I just can’t seem to break. (more…)