Driving ambition to push us through
Headstrong and fierce we must remain true,
To our authentic self to achieve our hopes and dreams
Relentless determination must be our theme,
So let’s ensure we create the most imaginative scheme.
Mar25
Category Archives: Metaphysics
Mar16
Userper
This is the start of story I was going to write some years ago, please read and let me know your thoughts on it. 😁🙏 Faux
Standing on the ramparts of fortress that protected his people, Danik stood and surveyed the scene and landscape below and in front of him, he could see the glow of the torches and the fires as they burnt, could smell and sense the malevolent nature of the seething mass surging inexorably forward and unrelenting. He could here the low roar and rumble, felt the ground rumbling underneath them. Was this truly to be the last stand?
Just then Danik felt a hand touch and squeeze his arm, Danik did not need to look who was by his side, it was Cressida, who had always been there and he never doubted would always be right to the end. Her orange fiery curly long hair blew in the wind, her pale white porcelain skin radiated beauty as she stood next to him, ‘ there is hope yet ‘ she said, in her angelic flowing Celtic voice, but Danik remained focused on what he saw as their ruin, his long black curly hair and strong raw weather beaten features of his face, hosted ghoulish, horrified eyes. ‘ the end he ‘ spoke, ‘ this is our end ‘, for a moment that seemed like eternity the pair stood in silence. ‘ oh, ruin and misery, why do you torment me so, why do you break my heart and haunt my soul as you do. Have I not been a good man to this land, to this place that was once fertile and beautiful but that is now a desecrated open wound, scarred by war. This was not of my choosing, this was not of my design, these foul hoards of the dark denizens come from the very root of despair and loathing, instilled by a dark shadow, malignant, malign and demonic. ‘ These words tore in waves of pain and suffering from Danika lips, hoarse and gravel like, low and threatening, close to the precipice of madness. Cressida could taste the ire, the despair of his words, felt the tautness of the sinew’s that became like strictures holding in him in a frozen torment. She had dreaded this moment, this was how his forefathers were in the face of similar ruin. In those times, their despair aided such ruin and left this land a waste, seething with destruction and hate that took many years to heal. She had already considered the options, inspire him to refute the damage wreaked by his forefathers and fight to save what he could, or end him, before he ended everything, she had the poisoned dagger ready in her free hand, clamped to her side, ready to pierce the live of her life in order to avoid total ruination. As he readied his command to bring about such destruction, she moved her hand up slowly to strike. Then from nowhere on the horizon a bright light shine, like the dawn of hope and divine intervention, both gasped in wonder and disbelief, both in that moment dared to hope. Was this salvation? Was she to be saved from slaying her love, was he to be saved from causing ruination and destruction. In this moment all would be revealed.
Mar15
Discovering our character
In our darkest days, we discover our true strength. Out of desperation, we realise love is everything. In our hours of need we discover our true character, are you selfless or are you selfish, do you care for others or nobody else at all.
Mar15
Expanding populations
Expanding populations
Leading to global annihilation,
Expanding into animal habitats
Building on environment which is bad for that,
Concrete structures are eyesores
Filled with greedy consumers
Who keep demanding more,
Caring not one jot
About earth’s nature, we’ve lost the plot,
Taking through exploitation
Never nurturing and so foresaking,
The balance needed to survive
All species have a God given right,
To not face certain extinction
But we’re like parasites
Feeding on a host, this earth we keep on bleeding,
Like a virus we keep diseasing
Everything that we’ve been gifted,
We need a moment of paradigm shifting
To bring a change to how we live,
And learn to control our increasing birth rate
So that the future generations will discover to late,
That this place in which we live
Cannot sustain us taking everything.
Mar15
Sparking a new age
Not a moment lost in in the quest for love, no second spared, in a world that fails to care, we can stand so strong, we can feel so deep, we can be seen to weep, not with sadness but joy, this is our choice. Choose light over dark, seek love over hate, let ameliorate, the wounds that bleed, the poison that they choose to feed us with, we can refuse to eat, but it’s down to you and me. Bereft of hope what else can we do? When we have nothing left to lose, both me and you, can root ourselves in love, we can manifest our own light, we can raise ourselves up, to spiritual levels upon high, no war, no pain, no longer the end will be nigh, no suffering no mo more, just an overwhelming felling of relief and joy as we sigh, and the tears we cry, will be ones of happiness from realising a new life, forged from change, borne from new ways, that sparks a new age.
Mar15
Spiritual axis
An axis of spiritual love
Frequency, love and light
Exists in a pyramid form,
Each with a path to one another
All creating a positive energy storm,
That builds up real power in us
And helps us to heal, evolve and transform,
This is the spiritual axis
Rooted in and is universally born,
And that brings in any life break change
And manifests in those who seek it a brand new dawn.
Mar8
The Ghost Town and the rat girl
She lived within a broken neighbourhood, one of rundown tenements, chocked with wires and plugs, heavily polluted, occupied by tramps and lost people who squat, on the outside to other people this meant nothing but to her it was a lot. For she had seen and known many who had died here, she had got used to feeling the fear of living in this place called Ghost Town, she saw them walk the streets at night and heard their suffering sounds, and they saw her, and recognised her as a kindred spirit, knew she was trapped here and could never leave it. She campaigned hard to get some help here, she would spray canned graffiti, ‘ life over fear ‘ she would demand help is needed here, but nobody listened.
So she would leave the town dressed in black, tight jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket, with a mask that would cover her lower face, and a baseball cap, these clothes hid her beauty and grace and she would visit places of the rich, break into their houses, steal whatever was needed, to help the Ghost Town community, they called her the rat girl, so in return she would feed off their greed, and help feed others who she knew would soon be deceased. And add to the Ghost Town spirit depository. The called her an activist and a thief, to her she was just trying to survive and help others in need, I met her and I fell in love, joined in and helped her but it was never enough, no matter just how hard we tried, the Ghost Town people they still died, we would stand in the middle of the Ghost Town street, light up flares and start celebrating, the lives of those wasted, but we would try to find a way, to give their life meaning, in the broken neighbourhood, choked with wires and plugs, rundown tenements, heavily polluted, we still managed to conjure up love, among the tramps and the lost souls in squats, but especially within the past over spirits, this beautiful angel they called rat girl was inspiring me to work beyond my limits as she always had and always will, then one day tragically she fell ill, and died in my arms, what could I could I do but just carry her work on. Then one day the bulldozers came, knocked down the neighbourhood and forced. The people away, they built penthouse places for the rich but in Ghost Town, the spirits still at night roam it, and I still steal from them and take it to those who need it. And as I stand in the street with my flare I spray paint the walls saying ‘ the Ghost Town still lives here ‘ and I see her the one they called rat girl, wandering about this place, still so beautiful and full of grace, beckoning me on to do the same, as she had always done from the cradle to the grave.
