"It's Good To Strive For The Best, Though Sometimes, You Need To Strive For The Better." -TheHen

I don't think I would ever be the same,

If you were killed,

And gone from my life.

Is it not the same,

If I break your heart,

Since you broke mine?

The single feather,

That flutters so feebly,

In the calm breeze,

As if time would almost freeze.

The softest wind,

That escapes my lips,

The feather rising high,

And low,

From the ever-changing tide,

Of the rhythm of time.

Maybe there was a fire,

Dancing through the night,

Destruction alight,

The times so dire,

Blazing inferno,

Swallowing it all,

It roars and crackles,

Restraining lives by shackles,

Devour the countless souls,

Trees, skies alike,

Apathy towards those,

Who are helpless,

Who are trying uselessly,

To overpower,

"Flee, little beings,

Flee far, far away."

The fire cackles in its own testament,

Then it sweeps its arms across,

The vast, burning land.

Emptiness,

Barren ground,

Ashes that flit around,

So many will never be found,

Yet now there is an ending,

But a new beginning,

To start again,

To retrieve what is lost,

To realize new dreams,

And to burn bright once more.

It's funny how,

We look at words,

We are stunned by their meaning,

We give them so much prestige,

We are enchanted by their form,

Yet it is almost never thought,

That it all comes from our eyes,

From the other world,

Of silent nature.

I stood in the forest,

In my solitude,

The swirling breeze,

The only sound,

When I look up,

At the towering trees,

I realize I'm so small,

Compared to the mist,

The bare trace of my silhouette,

Of my warm breath,

There is no knowing,

Beyond this trail.

Swallow's Dance

The azure, gentle swallow,

Perched on its branch,

The leaves that rustle and whisper,

Accompanying the twitters and chirps,

The beautiful melody gliding through,

The seams of the windows,

Mesmerizing in its trance.

Then the wind blew,

As the leaves chattered,

The tree strong, unwilling to bow,

To the relentless storm,

Protecting the swallow,

Who hid among the branches,

Feeble and silent.

No songs float through the air,

Though the rain takes its place,

Splitter, Splatter,

A collective rhythm,

Amplified by the wind’s howl,

And the bustling of the leaves.

As the swallow slept soundly,

Through the lullaby of the rain,

It awoke at the crack of dawn,

Ruffled its feathers,

Then took flight in its wake,

A magnificent sight as its slender body,

And the long waving tail,

Glided above the skies,

The feathers fluttering,

Sweeping the air with it,

The dance and the song,

A sign of life, harmonious nature,

A beauty to behold,

A swallow’s stance,

And its remarkable dance.

I wonder why I see a fire,

Burning in the water.

I can't help but laugh,

At your insane remedies,

For our long gone love,

Will stay buried,

I can never bother to hate you,

There is no need,

I'm just glad,

That you suffer my pain.

I remember the day, when I opened the door,

And I looked upon a cat, upon the soaked floor,

It’s abyssal fur frizzled, the color of midnight,

The yellow eyes, with a tint of light,

Stared at me, with unknown resilience,

Testing me for something that I ought to know,

Yet, suddenly it began to snow,

Flurries, soft, and gentle,

And when they smothered the night,

It blanketed the cat,

Who plodded inside,

Who had the slyest smile,

Who came to my legs, and leaned its head,

The purring ever so slightly,

The little paws gripping on tightly,

The stray cat, so calm, so warm,

Its breathing body strong amidst the cold,

And it fell asleep within my home.