Hmm. An end and a start? O.o Figure it out.

So, I spent 6 months as a part of Shadow Liberation and this is just the tip of all the things I would have liked to say and even more things I probably wouldn't have liked to say unless you forcibly pulled it out of me with hours of redundant questions that seem to go nowhere but lead to me actually saying stuff :P 2 minutes for a reflective video O.o People say I write too much anyway, apparently reading is a dying artform... Sigh, anyway, I managed to get a gist of what I was feeling when I made this, but trust me when I say, TIP OF THE ICEBERG :P

Not much of a blogger here, but my first not poem post. Yay me?! :P Maybe I should actually start. But then what would I possibly say?

Wait. FAIL. The video contains a mound of poetry -.- Try again Danie. Meh. Sigh, but I suppose its still a step further from all those poems you read (supposing you've read any) when I actually seem like I'm talking to you :D Tatas!

To Battle

Warrior, hear the battle call.

Your time has come.

Fire arms may bring you down.

But your honour will live on.

Broken-hearted maidens watch

The army marches by.

Songs sung of comfort lost

Embracing the last lullabye.

Little lads run along beside.

Their fathers barely known.

Metal clanking, armour clad.

Echoes of laments true.

Flags of mourning flying high.

The villagers each spare a sigh

Homes, cattle, farmland left behind.

A cloud of dust the only sight.

Bursts of sorrow and painful melodies

Amidst them one of hope regained.

“They’ll be back soon”, her voice strong.

“As sure as the sun will rise.”

Harsh words for silence announced.

“You know not the future.”

But she penetrates the heavy cloud

Feather weight, the intruder.

Hope sown, hope never known.

Song of a grand return.

Marching soldiers, trudging on.

Ears perked in wonder.

Listen. Remember.

A day of joy to come.

Spirits rise to battle to go.

Hoping soon to be back.

Sorrowful hearts, ablaze anew.

War meaningless once more.

Families looking forward to

Being whole again.

Well Worth the Task.

She watches and waits.

Days pass away.

Mind weak and tumultous.

Thoughts out of control.

Left to despair

With anger brimming over.

Answers to "why's"

Are too cold to give.

Born in a time of trust going rotten,

Lies being told like the wind and the water.

Waves crash against her.

As she stands knee deep.

Though provoking action.

To live or escape.

Forgotten soul, not forgotten. 

Competing voices in her head. 

Images blurring the horizon. 

The wind convincing her to live.

Why she stays, she knows not.

But she will not go before time.

Purpose planned she knows not.

But well versed she is, to not whine.

Love, it fills her desperate soul.

As love heals her heart.

Opening up, though difficult.

Love's well worth the task.

Why ShadyLib

What is ShadyLib?

Eva

Eva knew not the time of day

Eva had somehow lost her way

But Eva knew not to worry or fuss

Because Eva was never to be left in the dust.

Eva smiles, “I’ll be home soon.”

“How long will you roam, awaiting doom?”

Others would question her sanity so.

But Eva goes on. Never alone.

Musicman

The music box opens

The faint melody floats lightly

Growing louder in her ears

But for a moment, she sways.

The little girl lifts her head.

Her hair flies out of her face.

The music glistens in her eyes

It means more than the lovely sounds.

Every spin of a chord,

Every note and charming bell

Tinkling sounds amuse her.

Make her breath swell.

The glimmer of hope

Amidst the dark tale of doom

Was all she needed

To notice light through the gloom.

Foes forgotten, fate flimsy no more

She sees the glow of the friend, sought for.

The music reminds her again to smile.

The musicman knew the strange tides.

In His Arms

When all the world looks down on you

And you see yourself shining.

All you need to do is hold on to the Truth

And nothing can cause you to fade.

Everything said, everything done.

Not one distraction standing.

You smile, satisfied, because you know.

God is always watching.

And it’s not judgement you see in His eyes.

But love abundant and growing

You wonder why, for you, He cries.

And you go on never knowing

But to you he calls out.

By name he chose.

He wants you right beside him.

To show the world that hope isn’t lost.

It’s in His arms residing.

Two - Face

Cautious and scared, always aware.

Proud and arrogant, unthought blare.

Hiding uncertain of what to say.

The ignorance, my badge of honour today.

Quietly shaking in intimidating silence.

Screams fuel the anger shared.

Darkness, the voice of hatred bore.

Innocence, lost in utter despair.

Purity blemished, unable to rebound.

Vengeance did not like clarity sound.

Stories transcend, yet they cannot comprehend.

Attack vigilant, there was no defense.

Stare into the void. Blink.

Blatant fear, awaiting the cringe.

Numb, broken, bound, ensnared.

Numb, unsatisfied, reverse what was dared.

I am

I am who I am is what I’ve told myself

“Be who you are” is what I’m told.

But when all you’re told is of what is expected.

What society, over years, has constructed.

And all our ways are so restricted.

That our hope is solely to be accepted.

And yet, “I am who I am” is what I’ve said.

Who?

I am who I am

But I no longer know who I am

Because who I’ve been is who I’ve wanted to be

So that others can see?
And that I may be free?

But that does not make me who I am

Or who I could be

But would I be who I need to be

To be the me the world ceases to see?

But who I am is whom I’ve tried not to be.

To be all whom I can be

And still things have worked in revers

For who I am is who I should be

Whom I could be but possibly

Not whom I want to be

Nor whom I stay saying, ‘I’m me.’

Will I ever be free?

Truth.

Stories unfold

Of secrets untold

Meanings understood

And reasons forgotten.

Blind belief

Broken in grief

Claiming to know

The One who sees all.

Sleeping spirit rise

Tell all mankind

Truth is not told

But seen all around.

Before You Reach

You wish you knew what to do

Or even what to say

Helpless and burdened

You keep walking your way

You wonder, ‘Will it ever end?’

This mountain that you scale.

The valley may have been beautiful,

But it’s always about the climb.

You struggle to hold on.

You wish to give up.

You want to go home.

You’re just tired and rough.

Your voice is coarse as you cry out for help,

But not a soul will appear to dry your tears.

Then you quieten, leave every thought aside.

To hear a voice that calls your name, faintly from inside.

The more you listen, the louder you hear.

The easier the climb, as the peak draws near.

You’re going home, though a while it may take.

But you’re determined to give your best, even before you reach.

Hurt.

What hurts the most is when  you feel unneeded.

When the world still turns, though you stand still.

When you cry, only to be surrounded by silence.

When you speak and your voice echoes all alone.

What hurts the worst is when you’re broken

And you can’t feel the hurt.

When you've blocked yourself from all joy and sorrow,

And nothing can penetrate your wall.

What hurts is when you know you are helpless

To help the ones you love.

Hatred brews from the sadness and anger.

Bottled, left to ferment.

You step into comatose, numb to everything;

Wondering whether or not to even be part of the scene.

You want not to take the path needed.

And yet, you want the same.

Blow Me Away

Blow me away, Mr. Wind

Let me fly on your wings.

Let me soar in the sky

That you see every day.

Blow me away, Mr. Wind

Let me dance with the stars as you do.

Let me see the world through your eyes

That my perception be renewed.

Blow me away Mr. Wind

That I stay here not a moment more.

Let me come with you o’er oceans and more

That I too can hear them as they roar.

Blow me away Mr. Wind.

That I may recall all that I have

That I may remember the ones I love

And bring me back no longer bland.