She'll have to stand up and take charge.

How it feels to love you.

A poem I wrote because I could no longer ignore a fact.

When a hero with wings is who they need.

I am not afraid.

The breeze feels relaxing. What does the breeze make you feel?

I walked to the sty yesterday night,

Where is nature freed?

What would I wish?

Sometimes I forget.

I have glanced upon the embodiment of evil and sin. Wept, because of the sufferings I have birthed. I have neglected the pains that dwell in the air. Yelled at nights for the fright of darkness.

A blazing sun shined at its brightest, scorching the desolate land with its heat. The grains of soil beneath my trembling feet burned blisters onto the soles. The wind, a comrade no more, rushed towar...

Yesterday. I got that feeling again. That hollow terrible pain.

When the night was the darkest of black and the stars glistened bright white. When the wind was as quiet as it was calm while the creatures of the night in the deep sang.

Some people don't see the beauty of blood. This is what it is to me.