Something is not right
My thoughts are hard to come by
Try the best as I might
The pool of ideas froze dry
Curse you dreaded writer's block!
Perhaps it's best not to sulk
The park I went for a walk
Autumn comforts the mind with ease
The fine crackle of leaves and soft breeze
Back home I went for a shock!
Ideas glimmer and work flawless
Lightbulbs flash with bright glow
Time to pen them senseless
On my laptop, typed on free flow
Here it is, posted on my blog!
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Farthest Journey
In a sea of mist and rocks, a lone wanderer emerges. A worn out hooded robe covered his head and partially his torso. An imposing Scimitar sheathed to his back whiffs an air of respect; a submachinegun holstered at ready to his right hip. His trousers and boots speaks wear and tear throughout. he sets his eyes upon the mountain peak, determined to make it bow to his feet. He brought himself to the inhospitable ends of earth, confident of the words spoken by a mysterious letter in his pocket. "Seek us where the many shall not seek". This is where his journey begins.
Where others had failed, the lone wanderer defied all probabilities, tearing his way to the topmost peak. Not an ounce of mercy nor hesitation, his adversaries fell under his might, or sent cowering in fear by his presence. Along the way, he witnessed what was left of those who forsakened their journey, drowned under the waves of foolishness and temptations. Deranged, hopeless, left for dead, self-destroyed, or simply unspeakable beyond words. The still-breathing had lost their human reasoning, even attempted to slay the lone wanderer at the cost of their lives. Undaunted, the lone wanderer's untamed vigour mocked the obstacles that took away many before him.
As his hands grasped the last cliff, his sleepless eyes made partial gaze of his final destination. Ignoring human temptations, the lone wanderer firmly rejected the offer of exhaustion. Instead, he made his way to solid ground, upright he stood, both legs enslaving the earth; his awe-inspiring footsteps terrorized the mountains. The harsh whispers of the cold northern wind turned to silence, the erratic movement of clouds to a standstill. Lo and behold, the holy monastery dared to stand in his path!
Hasting his way through, the ancient structure grew ever closer towards the lone wanderer. Without warning, a disembodied voice made its presence known. Neither a soul or shape seen in the cold, barren mountains, yet its existence is undeniable. It spoke in a manner of a wise old man; natural echoes imposing grandiose to his voice, "welcome home, brave wanderer. Your strength and persistence proved us of your worth. We shall take you far".
This has been his farthest journey.
Where others had failed, the lone wanderer defied all probabilities, tearing his way to the topmost peak. Not an ounce of mercy nor hesitation, his adversaries fell under his might, or sent cowering in fear by his presence. Along the way, he witnessed what was left of those who forsakened their journey, drowned under the waves of foolishness and temptations. Deranged, hopeless, left for dead, self-destroyed, or simply unspeakable beyond words. The still-breathing had lost their human reasoning, even attempted to slay the lone wanderer at the cost of their lives. Undaunted, the lone wanderer's untamed vigour mocked the obstacles that took away many before him.
As his hands grasped the last cliff, his sleepless eyes made partial gaze of his final destination. Ignoring human temptations, the lone wanderer firmly rejected the offer of exhaustion. Instead, he made his way to solid ground, upright he stood, both legs enslaving the earth; his awe-inspiring footsteps terrorized the mountains. The harsh whispers of the cold northern wind turned to silence, the erratic movement of clouds to a standstill. Lo and behold, the holy monastery dared to stand in his path!
Hasting his way through, the ancient structure grew ever closer towards the lone wanderer. Without warning, a disembodied voice made its presence known. Neither a soul or shape seen in the cold, barren mountains, yet its existence is undeniable. It spoke in a manner of a wise old man; natural echoes imposing grandiose to his voice, "welcome home, brave wanderer. Your strength and persistence proved us of your worth. We shall take you far".
This has been his farthest journey.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)