Farewell

White washed walls and white blank
pages.
Hollow caves and thought filled
cages.
Broken hearts and tear stained
faces.
Unspoken words and regret filled
spaces.

Aching souls and stumbling paces.
Weary limbs and scar shod places.
Crawling onwards in endless ages.
Facing life in grief torn stages.

Hope still there and we’re
surviving.
Pain still there but our souls
reviving.
Hope assured and salvation ringing.
His heart and lips forever singing.

Memories

“Excuse me, sir? I was wondering if you could spare a couple minutes of your time. Could you perhaps sit down for a bit? I know you must be busy – or just don’t care to chat – but would it hurt to sit and listen for a while?
— Oh, the stories I could tell you if you could, if you would. Some of valour, some of fear, some of sorrow, and some of joy. There was the time that we hung the Private’s boots in a tree and made him climb up after them. He looked so funny scrambling from limb to limb. I could tell you how I lost my leg, or perhaps how Jimmy saved my life. They’re kind of the same story, really. Or there was the time I saved a young orphan from a burning shack. I could tell you how I held Roger in my arms as he lay dying, how we just couldn’t save him. Sometimes, I would cry myself to sleep while guns sounded in the distance. I could tell you how we charged the line, how we fought and died on foreign soil so you could sip a Starbucks coffee every morning in peace.
Would you perhaps like to see some photos? I have them all here with me. Here’s a couple of pictures of my company, that’s me there on the right. They’re all gone now, I’m the only one left. Most of them never made it home. This is one of Roger and I, he’s the one I mentioned earlier. This is me in the hospital after I lost my leg. I wish I could have stayed with my brothers, but I was too injured to fight. I wrote them every day though – I never forgot them. These memories are all I have left of them. I will never forget what they did, what they sacrificed, what they died for. I will never forget them. When most barely acknowledge their existence I will honour them every single day. It’s the very least I can do. I miss them, so much. —
No? You don’t have the time? Okay, I’m sorry to bother you. That’s all right, I understand.”

Inspired by “The Vietnam Veterans Memorial, Washington, DC. by Carissa Snedeker”

Weekly Writing Challenge: Threes

Dark Villain

The dark rises higher, threatening to engulf the light that may remain. Will I be lost forever in this sea of black that surrounds me? Will I escape the villain who knocks upon my door? The darkness haunts my soul, whispering disease. I do not want to drown inside this villain, but at the same time – I do. How have I fallen so far? How do I break free from black chains? The fight rages on and on, but every day is a step lost. I slide further and further towards the dark fire licking at my heels. It burns and bites, but somehow I feel nothing. Where is the brilliant light I once thought I saw? I have lost the will to try; hope fades into the world of night. I’m sinking further down, the surface racing far from my fingertips. I don’t want to drown in this villain I have created – this villain I have become.

Inspired by – Drown in You by Chris Daughtry

The Beginning of It All

So, this is my blog.  What is a blog?  I don’t mean what’s the technical definition of a blog; I mean – what’s the purpose of a blog, what is the point?  Well, that’s a fair question, I’m quite glad you asked.

So, what is the purpose of a blog?  Why would someone take the time to jot down the thoughts of their jumbled up brain and post it on the web?  Perhaps they’re just looking for a little attention, or maybe they’re seeking the fame and fortune that is granted to a select few in this world.  They could be of the noble kind, hoping that their words might make a difference in the chaos that echoes in our day and age.  It could simply be for fun, something to pass the time.  Truth be told there are a thousand different reasons one might start a blog.  I’m not here to give you a long lecture on what blogs are about or what they should be about, cause let’s be honest here, we would both get very bored.  I am here to tell you why personally am writing this.  My answer is on the simple side of things, I wish to be a writer.  I know the chances are slim, but I’m one for believing that dreams aren’t a crime or something to look down on.  I know the unlikelihood of even one person finding this interesting is great, but quite honestly this blog is not for you.  It’s for me, it’s so I can learn to write better and hopefully over time paint a more colorful picture.  I know that sounds kind of selfish, but I don’t mean it in that way.  This is hopefully going to be a blog of progression; it will appear random and confusing to most, but it’s about writing.  That’s the theme, and it’s such a wide range of opportunities that it is random and confusing.  Anyways, I am starting to ramble on, so I will stop myself here.  I hope in days to come things will improve and progress, for this is only but blot a of words in a sea of writing, for this…is only the beginning of it all.