~TheWiseCoug

[I'm dramatic, I'll admit it. I'm losing a little friend soon. And the only sober minded thing I can even think of are the words that come to mind. I don't care if its good or bad. But its coming out of a sad but important place. And these words are at the very least important to me.]

I wandered down through the past,
the path I took,
and hoped it last.

Memory of what might be,
of what I loved,
and did not see.

the truths
the lies
the water
the skies

All of which,
within my grasp
but in my hands were sand...

Fell into the hourglass
an infinite beach
where time did pass
yet still I walked along

Footprints there I left behind,
creations of my own design,
I had a vision yet I was blind.
What was my intention?
I do not know.

For ahead I see those memories,
crying out a million pleas,
forgive me if that's hyperbole,
but I care not; for I decree,
that all that they had meant to me,
let they become my reality.

And looking back I can't stay steady,
I steeled myself but wasn't ready,
braved a river but stuck in an eddy,
I feel weak but know I'm deadly,
am not selfish but definitely petty,
emotions lost in a twisted medly,
as soul is light...
yet incredibly heavy...

When I looked back.
I closed my eyes.
Every life.
I know it dies.
To the greatest.
It still applies.
The old one goes.
The newborn cries.

My path,
the one the reaper stalks
Keeping close but does not talk.
Reminding me,
I am not strong.
Just bitter that the path ends wrong.
He leaves,
and I leave prints beside tide.
I just miss the ones that were at my side.

[Not perfect, but just doing poetic writing just for the sake of writing, making use of any creative inspiration even when the result is weak.]

Stoke up the flames,
drive down the hammer.
Spark to the steel,
watch for the glimmer.

Strike at the Earth,
bleed for the stone.
Leave only the strong,
and forge your own bones.

Burn in the furnace,
destroy what's impure.
temper your heart,
and quench your own core.

Grind down your hands,
hone your mind's edge.
Raise up the iron,
and bring down the sledge.

Cover hands in coal,
till the fire burns cold.
Sweep away the ash,
and break through the mold.

Become like steel,
forge your own form.
drive down the hammer,
and create your own storm.

[I've seen a lot of death lately, and this is just what comes to mind]

I know its cliche.
But celebrate the lives of those lost.
Cheer for the memories with those we knew and loved.
We do not mourn for the memories of someone taken away,
rather the loss of new memories to make.
Yet memory is what it takes to let the spirit pass,
and our payment made to make them last.
Immortality is not living forever.
Its memories that aren't forgotten.
Our actions now live as their voices.
Let their love now guide our choices.
So for every life we ever touch,
they become more,
if not by much.
Live in their stead.
Dream new dreams for them.
Let young lives bloom
and make many more.
Let them live in your dreams.
Let them live in your hearts.
Let them rest while they wait.
Let yourself live, until the day you're together again at last.

Never live your life too close to Failure.

With the comfort of your home right next door.
Failure never really becomes your friend.
But with time you learn to avoid failure.
While you may climb to claim the fruit of some success,
and the satisfaction tastes better having gone so far.
You always know Failure lives close by.
And while the chance to flourish becomes what you crave.
You'll always dread opportunity, having Failure so close by.
Your experience and wisdom may keep Failure at bay.
But eventually it may seem impossible,
to tell the difference between where you are now,
and failure lurking right behind you.
A race may be more exciting with it hot on your heels.
But always you will desire,
to know how it feels,
to leave it in your dust.

[Not really something I'm craving putting attention toward. But I figured a little writing here and there wouldn't kill me and give me something to think about at least once a week.]

Never forget
life's overrated without action to regret
When its high stakes
we make mistakes
To accept the result
it's all fake
A false feint,
its what we paint
to mask the rage of our inner saint.

Oh it could be better
but we made it worse
oh how we'd love to get it right first
"I don't regret the choice"
Can't you hear your own voice?
That you accept that lie
to leave it where it dies.

Its in our nature to fight
Not a god given right.
We kick
We scream
We bite
Until victory is clear in sight.

Tomorrow is another day
But when does that end?
Is good luck waiting around the bend?
Does the flesh of the patient not tear and rend?
What message do you even plan to send?

A predator may lie in wait
But only in claws do you control fate.
When you fail to strike you're always late
Your own warm blood won't grant you pity.
Don't expect a voice to go, "oh poor kitty."

Become a damned beast
accept your wounds
a docile hunter finds no boons.
Claim the victory,
regret the loss.
Your bleeding heart can't cash the cost,
of the memories where you got close.