Words the Windows to the Soul ©2010 2011 2012 2013: November 2010

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Vengeance Brings

The fire that is vengeance burns, brightly; yet to the soul the darkness comes. As that which consumes all leaves nothing to light the soul. Yet we seek that which brings pain to the heart; with a soul in darkness. Our mind feels the heart's pain; still we look for that which we shall see only in the mind. Oh great the sadness, and loss of life be this to much to bear. The memories of what was; shall not be seen, nor remembered; for that which brightly burns. Let the tears of remembrance kill vengeance' fire; that once again your soul shall see. So too with hearts pain; like the coming of the sun warmth, healing. Still sadness yes, but the memories shall forever be yours; again in the fields running; only here the joy is felt by the mind not troubled by heart's pain. Lush be these green fields where again you run in that which be the sun's light. Never again to know the heat that vengeance brings...

For Chip

LIfe

Life

Anger's rage kills not quickly; the death is slow and painful as life be consumed by the anger which fuels the rage. Fool not yourself; anger left, will turn to that which kills. One must act to turn anger outward; thus the fuel can not burn. If I could but learn one thing; would this not make riches pale. Oh to have this awesome power, be this wealth more precious than gold. Yet how can I find something that I can not see; for my eyes blinded by anger. So to with all man; oh will we never see life without anger. Is this really life, be there nothing else; or be death the only answer. I will tell thee this set free your anger; thus the fuel shall burn no longer. Then you will see the wealth that has always been more precious than gold; for now your eyes see without anger, Life.....

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

True Wisdom

True Wisdom

As early morn brings the light, so that our eyes might see. Sit I here and wonder be knowledge present; or be it that we lack the understanding of that which be morning’s light. How will wisdom present itself to us, lacking that which be knowledge. How can I just, a simple man feel another's pain; or have the wisdom to see their anguish. As the sun looks to their soul, be not then my shame to feel not that which is real. For stand I in the brightness for this early morn; and I see, feel, and hear that which be the hunger. This thirst of these the helpless: whose hunger, cries unheard. Be it day or the darkness of night. What kind of man would I be with the knowledge; yet not to share it. Yes one could avoid the pain, made deaf and sightless by my own fear, and turn away. Hear now these words I give thee. Should you turn knowledge unused and heed not the pain; nor the cries of the helpless, this be your shame. You shall never know of thy failure; nor will you ever possess true wisdom…

Freedom's Cost

Freedom’s Cost

What be this place where no sound be heard. In the distance a single bugle sounds its call. Yet, tears that fall like rain drops; play their own notes. Be this the notes of the sadness of the lost. You ask what sound is this that brings the sadness. This be the sound of courage lost in defense of others. The cost of liberty was paid again; with blood the only payment. This price paid again by the few; so that the many know not of fear. Yet their freedom is given without cost to those who wear not the uniform. Freedom only exists, when those both men and women are willing to stand the wall. These special few that heed their country’s call; and yes their life forfeit if it must. To those that have given this payment. I offer this tribute; you shall be remembered as long as one lives to tell the story of

freedom’s cost.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Mighty Ship

Missing in action, presumed lost, whereabouts unknown the dispatch read. Such was the fate of this mighty ship which was built for war. As all that served in her ready for that which she was built. And of her brave crew all rest with her in the quiet and the silence of the seas floor her final resting place unknown. Be this of little comfort to the families of those loved ones gone missing with this mighty ship as the dispatch read. The great sadness that followed the death of this mighty ship for none left to tell the story. Still the sadness was theirs to mourn the missing and the loss of this mighty ship of war. Her size did not make her strong. Nor did many fear her guns. But the men with steel in their hearts new of their fast, light cruiser would battle any ship that dared to cross her bow. Yet the skill of her captain and the courage of her men proved her worthy in battle after battle she was a mighty ship. Then on that fateful day when under the cover of darkness, like a thief whose face covered with false colors did approach. Both ships opened fire at each others hearts with courage apparent. As the mighty ship made for home damaged bow to stern, her brave crew tried to save her but her wounds mortal. Now her men share her fate resting in the quiet and the silence of the depths. They that mourned now to can rest as that hallowed sea floor has been found. And like a fine book the cover can now be closed. For the story is known and the ending shall not be forgotten.

Dedicated to this mighty ship and her crew H.M.A.S. Sydney II

The Fog

The Fog
Find I these things of the mind, not easy to describe. The war rages again; this drug induced sleep and the fog that it leaves. This foe formidable with this which be the spell cast. Like the weather changing the clouds; so to these moods change in this fog. How does one explain how this war exists; when sleep only comes with that which brings the fog. If the mind could be emptied of all thought; wonder do I would we dream. Then if dreams be not there; how do we even know we slept at all. Yet I must endure this, would that I did not; nor others that share my fate. With these spells cast what be the choices then. I wonder what choice made the spells cast or that of the fog…

Monday, November 8, 2010

Flower's Beauty

Wonder do I when comes the time to surrender. Be it when the mind and body weakened;that the flower's beauty no longer seen.

How can we walk on when the strength of the sun;and the heat it brings be against us. Yet we feel not the warmth;

just the heat of pain with each step.

Do I not thirst for the life giving water;

only to find the sand of a desert.

Minds fraught with uncertainty lacks the knowledge;

Desert Palms yet we no longer see shade and comfort,

only the hot sand that must be crossed.

So to the flower's beauty not seen;

for our eyes blinded, defeated.

This force that brings all against me,

be my end that it seeks.

My soul cries out to what was,

seeking that which be now weak;

that was once strong.

Seek you the shade and the life giving water;

for there be that once again you shall find

flower's beauty, victory...

Friday, November 5, 2010

Star's Heart

Star's Heart

Wonder do I gaze upon the night's sky. Be it to see the gift of the light given. Or be it that the beauty rare; be the same as rage. Is any thought given to that of the star and of what be the star's heart. Yet in an instant the star streaks across the heavens, in the blackness and is gone. As if the rage has taken the light, as the star's heart feels the sting of death.

I sit amazed as I wonder; did I not once give a thought to that which be the heart. One would suppose that some would have seen; alas no, what was seen was the light given. Could none see that the light hid the heart. Great is the pity than none saw that which was lay hidden; the white hot rage as the star whose heart never seen.

The anger, that which was the rage; be this then the light be just the blackness hidden. Then that which was the heart gave once more to all. Never so bright was this light, across the night sky that brilliance seen but for an instant; and then the blackness. Yet how could one understand without knowing; the pain and the rage that was the star's heart.