Immortal

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

[Chorus:]
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

[Chorus]
I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me I've been alone all along

[Chorus]

Work in Progress v.2

Havoc
White coals, flashes and pain and glimmers of light.
Blue ice, groaning with weight and invading ever onward.
My fangs, with wicked bile and bitter venom, creep slowly from my gums.

Burning coal and frozen glacier meet in perfect destruction
and I rise from their hatred as passionate fire and time's slow tide.
I am inevitable, I am invincible, I am screaming for the feast.

Yet every time I sate my lust I see Her, and my rage is tempered by coal and glacier.
That vicious bitch, her marks, her poison, remain under tattoo and in vein and I would destroy Her,
I would destroy me, I would destroy any if it would let me be free of Her.

Weak moment's yield clarity and I realize that He does Her bidding still.
He strikes nearly every enemy he sees, he dines on their minds and souls,
he feeds on any she, so that no she will be Her to Him again.

I see He hates Her now and loves Her still and regrets that in Her madness she shaped the world.
His existence is defined by Her (defiled?),
made real by Her,
fraught with Her.

She, any she, is now His Feast of hate and fear.
I would feel pity if He would have the courage to withdraw his fangs,
I would feel pity if I had the courage to make him stop.

Work in Progress

Just a work in progress:
Havoc
White coals, flashes of pain, and thin lines of sudden light.
Blue ice, groaning weight, snapping but inexorably forward.
And my fangs, with wicked bile and bitter venom slip slowly over my lips.

I am burning coal and frozen glacier.
I am passionate fire and time's slow tide.
I am screaming for the feast, for any feast.

Every time I see a Feast I see Her, and my rage is tempered by coal and glacier.
Her marks, her poison, still remain under tattoo and in vein and I would destroy Her,
I would destroy me, I would destroy any Feast if it would let me be free of Her.

A moment's clarity and I realize that He does Her bidding still,
lashing out on any Feast, any she, for none will be Her to Him
again.

He hates Her and loves Her and in Her madness she shaped the world.
His existence is defined by Her (defiled?),
made real by Her,
fraught with Her.

She, any she, is now His Feast of hate and fear. No more will she threaten Him by being like Her.

something

Why Why Why Why all this pompous scratching, all these cloned signs demanding that their noone is someone that you should make someone more.

How ridiculous is that? Why do I want to take your noone and then make him into a someone? Wouldn't  it make more sense for him to become a someone on his own in noble worldly ways so that the common man can support somoene and not trust those nothings turned to somethings by somoene else?

Why waste all that hope and optimism on liars! Such great culture, such diverse paths, such individual lives lived and saints walk the land, but the idiocy says you must recant - you must instead choose those approved by the machine. I will not choose the wisdom of the political machine when this something was once nothing duped us all. Once a liar - always a liar.

If you've been in love

If you've been in love then you know what it is to stare at the wall, stare into space, stare into your soul and miss miss miss your other. Whether it's an eighth grade crush or your husband, that desire and longing is what makes love so much more powerful than hate.

Wedding

Monday is the end of a big weekend for me; my brother married and I saw everyone in my family for the first time in nearly three years. While uneventful (mostly - I'll spare you the comments a few of my more choice family members sent my way), I am emotionally exhausted. Dealing with those that challenged me, and having to challenge myself, wore me out. Still, I'm glad I made it up there and helped my brother have a special weekend.

Leaving Everything?

I'm back from a weekend in the woods, where I took one of my classes on a ten mile hike on the AT and a jaunt through an abandoned WWII POW (later church) camp that has since been reclaimed by forest.

Central to our experience was using travel narratives to explore social studies content (in this case we modeled a westward expansion unit). We searched for meaning in attempting to uncover the truth and emotion behind the question, 'what does it mean to leave everything behind and travel into the unknown?'

I'm struck by the depth of the question, even unintentionally, as we think of those lost in nature, lost in themselves, or those that left their home for war and found themselves not in Germany, but in a small county in Pennsylvania, in the middle of forest, with nowhere to go for miles around. What drives us to to make these choices? What drives others to make these choices for us, whether politicians or land-owners, slave masters or tribal chiefs?

Survival is central to this theme, but then I wonder...where does learned helplessness fit? Not everyone survives....what allows some to make the impossible journey and what holds others to doom and death?