quirundous iswa, dreamed of life being something which did to itself what those seen lived with. for prision was his home, life was a place of the hunted hour. and life like to animals without reason , was he given to his lot. nothing in life was without the loyalty to his home. his place within that was a mind he understood to be in excess to reasoning. punishment was meant to keep the boy. freedom in every soul he ever witnessed was granted their leave by the masters inside his home, and desire yearned did nothing but cause pain throughout which ever infliction his masters would create. so forever in his thoughts when confined from the world would give him grace to believe, and so iswa would wish that his dreams of sleep time would keep him. awakening from his slumbers iswa would cling to those fleeting moments as if they were the only thing in life which did allow his graces to be cherished. he could not love or hate, smile or frown like any animal for a use beyond his own reasoning, given any idea of his own making comprehend the reason why. in times ahead of all things within his mind there was a distaste for the world that his lot had provided. life was balanced in harm and distrust, things given and taken away with the cruelty of those minds within his house. natures interest was incomprehensible. his masters would question how this one boy could have not been taken. iswas dreams knew these spirits, for him they took nothing. and reason for, his very desire within what heart he had did nature find a place to see the boy as one to remember, his desire was animal, like all others within the natural world a simple wish. live for harmony without stife, and die well for when things wished to take him. something his masters did not have creedence to understand within their foul hearts. so when he was sent to those places once alone he would rejoice to the world to take from him this life, and that itself would free him from what any other would fate to be. upon return to his masters house they would seeth. and so nothing was to iswa a grant to his desires, for how could the world not take? as they did within his home. natures blessing disguised intention to his mind for which he did not understand. yet each time upon his return from such places that should have met his end did he find cruelty in his house, it grew like a flower of hate inside a dream festered by minds that only wish such things upon the pure. having, which is. wonder in ways too for that is inside each, and for another. having, does desire enfold that which is for anothers purpose? for the center of the eye within and knowing that which can be. will a heart and to heavens. can so entwine to that which is destined for a home that is elemental and without those distractions of moments of agent to things. for thoughts in time if dire may lead to place within the mind to find comfort for what was. and soldier is what has nothing to seek in past to duty forth what promises can be adventure for to dream in a day of solice. so what now is i see that for which i was chosen. a gift to war so my family grants my lot, destiny is bitter to young. having, which is. wonder in ways too for that is inside each, and for another. having, does desire enfold that which is for anothers purpose? for the center of the eye within and knowing that which can be. will a heart and to heavens. can so entwine to that which is destined for a home that is elemental and without those distractions of moments of agent to things. for thoughts in time if dire may lead to place within the mind to find comfort for what was. and soldier is what has nothing to seek in past to duty forth what promises can be adventure for to dream in a day of solice. so what now is i see that for which i was chosen. a gift to war so my family grants my lot, destiny is bitter to young. for what seems to decide upon my spirits back to see that potential disregarded i hold in what is remaining of my heart. so no other reason can i have than to know being alone is the wish of all things for the expense of knowing i have made what is called a changing differance. not love or honour or commitment has provided grace to my souls passage. for that which i thought was mine to heal that of my souls wounds made choice to see that i would not have that rock to hold. so now as it is i feel no less of myself but instead carry a wariness of those who would volunteer to my aid. so dreams lived by those around me in my life smiled through eyes that would ascend to the uppper realms and laugh at my prison so pleasure was a thought of my sufferance. and so i learned to crave the pain of such persons no matter who they would be and did i who once was a being of life with no thought of war became that. by the insanity of those who governed my soul and my being i became forged in fires endless in number and so tempered became i. a weapon now i am and by no choosing did that desire become to self. being now indebted to hates presence for reason and purpose to act, at all times close with in order to destroy such which has mind to my person other than my hearts interest. so now being much older than i should for any reckoning or reason i carry those memories of a life given to the hate of a family who would see my spirit crushed and my mind controled, for what i was had no hate. as now is i still do not carry those stones upon my back, but with knowledge i can muster such fury that it would impair the heartiest soldier to childhoods worst nightmare within those souls. so as it is i live with nothing in my life, not a friend do i have or a family, no bitterness do i hold for it but i do know what i am now will never need another for the warmth in my bed or the mornings to share. so for my life it will stay empty and not again will i give my heart to another to be cast away to duty. nothing has ever given to me what i have offered in service. this world. jaded is a word that comes to mind about my lack of concern for the loss of things that had potential to matter. of course the things that would make a response other than disregard to any emotional issue are rather rare, for those things to covet from the distance of lifes view would be the only protection to offer such. admire beauty and her gifts from the mind itself other than to touch the flower and disturb its sways to the wind. this is for what lives to know dreams comes only from the fewest of souls. in search of that this world possesses which worth comes to the protector whos only desire is to see the flower sway. guided is the spirit by the wind and so the sea as well earth, take notice of the childs mind and accept there is something from which to make fire upon the world. so walks the dream whos purpose is the strength of creation and guided to duty for lifes wonders do at times need a hero. all things in life do dream of that which would care for their plights as a child looks upon the faces of their parents. always that is one who has been given nothing of love who finds the flowers grace and purpose a thing to desire from afar for nothing else than to know without greed there is something to share. at my age of four decades and some for making tremendous effort in duty to others without question, i have not a family in any sense of the word. but i see the world in its places where my own kind do not look with value. given have i and never does it seem that my duty is enough. the things that wish my mind to prison have no love other than to destroy my desire for a life worth living. so now in my wisdom when its duty they call for it is their lives i cut down untill they say duty enough and no more. and no more will any call for service from my hand, for those that do never pay to assure. because if price to service is beyond comfort then expendable a soldier is not, those true to a dreams need would never care for value of things. so when question comes of that which a person has being greater in substance than the duties required, no more questions do i have. close with, destroy. duty to the self, for in dawns light the flowers sway.
Posted on: Fri, 17 Jan 2014 20:32:32 +0000