beautiful flowers

left out to rot in the sun

our love dies with them...

I see Him beside

What was once a grave of stone

Broken from His shroud

And He was walking

Above the waves around us

Reaching out a hand

The land we were in

Promised so long ago then

He has come down here

Rome oppresses us

And we have cried out to Him

There He stands again

A woman reaches

Briefly grazing His tunic

And she is healed

One day they will bow

But for now we are hated

Just as He has ...

They knocked on the walls

With their sheepskin drums held low

And rained fire on Rome...

I want to do things

World shifting, table turning

Like the ones before

The Aztecs knowledge

Starry skies, solar systems

Breath-taking ruins

Sacrificial grin

Metaphorical dying

Remember back then

Do you remember?

You were just a little kid

And you didn’t know

That this would all soon

Be gone like how the tide falls

Yet, this won’t return

One thing stays the same

Every moment on earth

Will be l...

Jitters before a hike

Imagine if you had only one arm, and you were tasked to carry 16 sets of 4 heavy textbooks and go on a fifteen minute walk from your house to the library. Imagine the nervousness you would feel before performing the task? That is exactly what I felt when my family was going on a trip to Peru to hike up Machu Picchu. During the several months before our trip to Peru, my dad ke...

Days become longer,

But I stay the same each day,

Let me awaken....

There's a girl in the woods

She's sitting alone

She made the choice

to leave her home,

bear or man,

her answer clear,

the same as any woman near,

she closes her eyes,

breaths in the air and sighs,

safety is all she can feel, because she'd rather be a bears next meal,

than be subject to whatever the hell he feels,

he wants to do,

because there's a difference between a man and a bear,

...

going to rivers,

I search for something to drink

dust surrounding me.

I push by people

who hold vases made of clay,

who hope to provide.

into the water

I lower my own clay vase;

water rushes in.

people around me

carry all that they can hold

back to the village.

after a mile,

I make it to my own home

humble as is packed.

cracked and muddy homes

still serve as a shelter now

after many years.

h...

The sky was charcoal

Mirroring a raven's wings

The air turned to fog

The great Earth trembled

The shaking grew, more and more

Weak buildings collapsed

Above, ashes fell

Like burning snow down onto

The people below...

As the rats consume,

As I am being eaten alive now,

Did did I do wrong?...