KaleidoscopeOrange

 Screaming and panting echoed from a dimly lit shack just off of the water. Mori, a young woman almost too young for child birth, was lying in bed grasping the sheets. She had been in labor for two hours, and was making no progress. "Breathe Mori, breathe. Bori and Amon will be here soon." Bek comforted her younger sister. "Just breathe; everything is going to be alright." "I... I just can't..." As Mori spoke Bori and Amon rushed through the door. "What fire and brimstone might there be to make the great Bori this late?" Bek's calming tone turned to red hot rage towards the two men. Amon began to speak. "There are these..." "We Apologiz

 Indistinct shimmering filled the cloudy sky over the grey beach of the Azealian wharf. Citizens stood in awe; staring, pointing, and whispering curious wonders about the origin of the lights. "What blessing or curse do signs like these bring?" The nervous words slipped from the soft tongue of Amon, the apprentice to the village medicine man. "Not every wondrous sight leads to something grand, just as grand things do not always begin with such wondrous sights." Bori, the old grey-bearded man, always spoke with wisdom, the kind of proverbial wisdom that comes from a lifetime of seeking life's greater meaning. He continued, "Our knowledge of

Daily life? A chore Liking activities? Boring What makes life fun? A random death What is wrong with you? I know too much

Pathetic attempts to woo Miserable failures time and again It is when you swallow pride Tuck your desires deep That the one you love sees you You are what people want They don’t want you to want them They want to want you They want to know that you can be friends When you’d rather be lovers Show them care outside of yourself Because in reality A friend is a lover And a lover is a friend

To grow old is to die Or at least just a little Hair grows gray Bones become brittle But one thing I'll welcome That comes with old age It’s the wrinkles on my cheeks That will prove that I’ve smiled While in this cage

Is it profanity or poetry- When I Speak my mind? Is it Vanity or Self-Awareness- When I stare in the mirror and Pine? I am a thing of debauchery Lewd, Loud, and Human But why can I- Think, Love, or Feel? Are these things Real? ©2014