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Before the statue of the warrior, she weeps

Voldar knelt before the statue of the great warrior and wept. Around her were the ruins of the city she had once called home. Foes had swept over it weeks before. “How could you let this happen?” Voldar cried, “You swore to protect them.” But the statue r...

The Long Road Home. Chapter 17.

She wanted to cry but there were no tears, just an intense pounding in her temples.

Innsbruck, December 20th 1943   The young woman opened her eyes. Where on earth was she? In the gloom, she could make out twisted and mangled pipes, many with steam hissing from the fractures. Loops of wires hung down from above and, worse still, the room...

The Nurses. Chapter 41

She took up her friend's wrist and searched for a pulse. Oh my Lord, she couldn't find it!

H.M.S. Lakhota, March 23rd, 1941. Long into the night, Maria sat beside Katarina, talking to her, checking her pulse and temperature, bathing her forehead with a cool damp cloth and generally praying and encouraging her to pull through.Occasionally she wo...

Stalking the essences of a dream, I meander throughout the streets that have become rubble. It is quiet, unsettlingly so, but there is beauty in ruin. I dream of the little things. The way fiery sunlight glows against the sand-dusted buildings, the way so...

Red Rose

What is a red rose?

Something simple Something pure Something peaceful It talks no more For all its history Written in blood Red roses are lovely The color of blood People adore them Why not? For roses are lovelies Drenched in blood People love people adore They give as a to...


There is Great Shame

When does Violence justify anything?

There is great shame in this world,Clouding over the earth like a shadow.A cry for change, for a future,Such hope, twisted into a reason.A reason, to loot and plunder.As those angry at life decided,On a path of violence,Over the path of peace.A child was...

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Not a head does not turn towards the destruction, drawn by the brutal symphony of sound, held rapt by the morbid visual. Everyone sees some part of the meticulously planned yet seemingly barbaric disassembly, almost walking into one another as they crane...

Life of Destruction

For an ex friend that expected everyone to help her but could not help when someone needed it.

You live life on a path A path of destructionDestruction leads to hurtYou thrive on hurting othersHurting others the way you hurtYou want others to sufferSuffer for your gainWhen someone helps you You inject toxicity in their livesThen run back to them wh...

I am the Angel of Destruction. People don't like me, And with good reason, I mean, Who can blame them, When I take lives with the swipe of my hand? People have different names for me, Death, though they're wrong, Death just travels with me, My close compa...

Speaking to the Sun

Speaking to the sun about what we have done to our green earth

The Civil War isn’t over yet. The Crusades begun a thousand years ago have not been won, and when I read about another drone, another soldier’s suicide, another stone thrown at a women’s head, another prison being built to rid the streets of anyone who mi...

From Morning Songs: If We Weren't Here

Thinking about climate change and what we are passing on to our children

  If we weren’t here everything would flourish. The blazing sun would rise each day like now. The moon would do its rounds and what would perish would not know its name. New seeds somehow would grow and from decay bloom new flowers, new colors, new aromas...