My mind is a voracious beast that is overwhelming and unable to be stopped. It can eventually be calmed, but stopped never. During the storm the teeth gnash and mutilate human flesh and cuticle. It is a gruesome sight of withering decay and primal darkness of unknowing. In the weakest of times I allow myself to become this. I need this. Without this there is no way to know the calm, the ease of the now. My mind is a werewolf, except takes much less than the rising of a full moon for me to change. After I have chewed my fingers to the bone becomes awareness and realization. I must learn to hone the beast, for I want it to be always apart of me. It is my power.
The sun is beating as the wind
gently caresses my bare legs.
Looking out on such a beauty that
can only make you think a god
The bugs are curious of me, but
not enough so to be a nuisance.
With each minute gust of fresh
air my hair dances across my face.
The sun is relentless.
The cows don't seem to mind, as
this is their home.
Seemingly, I am jealous of these
As they graze they care not of
the worries of the world, driven
only by the hunger for more life,
creating an orchestra of bells.
I am safe, I am home.
The ship is sturdy, rolls and eases its way through the ocean with each oncoming swell, with pride. It was made for this. For if not for the battering winds and relentless waves it would be not a ship. The Captain is strong. Weathered, and battle hardened he has seen the swells and felt the monstrosity from beneath, but never endingly has his eye on the horizon. His soul is the ocean and his vessel the ship. Mutiny is ever present. The crew is clockwork, but the Captains mind tells him otherwise. Surely he has fought through many squalls, but there is one deep and predatory that looms within. The Captain, however is only a true Captain once he is able to not only recognize that the ship and mutiny are simply another squall to sail through but necessary. Thus a true Captain is born.
Inspiration is to breathe,
A single breath is all I need.
A deep inhale,
with an absolute punctual exhale.
A fiery passion of dragons hearth conveyed through paint.
easy expression of power.
Heart is never the problem.
True fear comes from a formidable unknown,
A soldiers will,
With the grandeurs of kings,
And a strike of lightning.
To overcome is easy.
To conquer is the quest,
A power within that precedes knowledge,
A knowing to achieve,
And ease of belief.
Powers that I can not yet achieve.