to her with the sleek bronze tail.

as the last of the golden beams retreated for the day,
the hour long darkness began to pollute the cerulean atmosphere
..
down by a deserted alley, a tiny creature begins her nightly routine.
stalking up worn down fences..
the nights these days are getting colder she thought to herself, prancing gingerly through heaps of rubble..
the pale blue moon, whining in the empathetic cresent not a care for the many down below. selfishly guarding the golden rays of light from us down below.
her skin of perfect pink ivory, guarded by a coat of gold stripped bronze fur...
her ears twitching in the beautiful midnight moon-breeze.
she senses a faint smell of sulfur in the air.
her spine freezes.
she recognizes the smell, that which left her orphan all these years.
dark shadows appear in the distant clearings..
she screeches and bolts away.
the shadows seem to be gaining on her quickly.
she makes a sharp turn..
heart ponding like a drum, as she feels warm blood rushing into her ears...

and at this point, the writer decides to leave his workstation and bring himself back down to earth back down to his squalid workstation in a mouldy and dusty office.

--to wherest it came so it shall return.
to whom dis was dedicated to, i shall not forget.
the path is long and may you walk through it justly.

this were to be his final moments

the turn-coat
tiny beads of water turned to ink as the rolled down his umbrella
the noise of his surroundings muffled a silent coughing noise
his comrade in front of him hugs her body as her white evening gown turns a deep hue of velvet red.
the mole in the organization
he shed his blue uniform
he left it in the rain
blood-stained and rain-soaked
he scoffed at the ghastly sights of those whom he had murdered.
double the agent, double the glory
he reached into his beige pants and pulled out fine white powder, and inhaled it.
a momentary rush, as life around him seemed to slow down
a creak
in one fell swoop he withdrew his pistol, zeroed it, aimed it.
bang!
he was too slow..
he hesitated ..
this time it was his ebony cloak's turn to drip the faint smell of oxidising iron
from a pool of crimson nothing-ness

Knowledge
in this world of lawlessness
who is to judge of one's quality inferiority
our leaders ,the world's leaders gathered
swearing to instill in each of us the knowledge
to keep us going . To keep them going.
Hoping that in the masses of millions of people
there would be a handful of us capable to use this knowledge
for the betterment of the world ,for the betterment of mankind
who is to judge
progress ,downfall
each in it's own is but a ratio created in comparisson to our past.
One shot
wish for a better world
a dreamer
a sleeper
who is to judge of the difference

the very best

dark dreams engulfing
the spiral of hatred
reminisce of the times
the times of purgatory
the times of grief
the nights when death himself
seemed to stroke your skin with his
cold lifeless fingers
the nightmares
more and more of them
the valley of the shadow of death
the life within reach
slowly diminishing
your irises dilate
blood in your veins seem to slow down
you hear every sound and capture every beam of light
no more
no more she tells him
he walks away
no more pain
just this cold
dank
empty
four walls
that which he must face every day
and every night
no more
she told me..
and so i granted
the cool cement flooring never felt so scorching against his skin
i drift between the first and second person's perspective
just as much as my consciousness allows me.
crystal clear and highly viscous
a cool soothing feeling as it ran down my throat
then..
in an instance later
he could no longer breath
he was but another lifeless object within the walls of the cell
he once spoke to me that life was never the same without her
no he was no longer in possession of life itself..
just another lifeless object
just another perfect casualty.
i have grown weary of this endless struggles
my patience wears too thin
he snapped..
that's just life

welcome to purgatory

your arms burn as they try to rekindled a lost flame
your soul twitches in its place
a fresh start
that means hell on earth
the more you do the more you have to do
what point is that for you to carry on in this battle
you have outlived your purpose
"out-served" your passion
that is no need to be one of us
why are you here?
the battle you have fought
the trophies you have won
meaningless
stripped down bare to the pathetic bar on a piece of cloth that is your ampulet
what for?
why fight on?
why do you choose the most difficult of routes?
these questions will befall on you
there will be shame
there will be pain
but no longer will you have to bear it alone
same goes for the credit you will no longer claim it as if it were your own
maximum pain
minimum glory
a good coat of arms to be fighting for...

as poor as such

quiet silence of a symphonic orchestra
a silent squeaking between the pause
not a noise but a sound
as her tiny paws scrambled amongst tapping toe caps
thudding sounds.. resemble napalm crashing to the earth lighting up the sky in a brilliant amber projection
to her extreme sense of hearing.. an out of tune vibration in the air....
she raises the upper torso
surveys the surroundings
on conclusion she runs due south towards the exit
away from the high frequency noise
suddenly
..
her hearing sense seem to all but function
a flash of white light
the amber flicker burning the crimson liquid of the humans a deep umber colour
mars black smoke fills the chapel...
she lays motionless
as the winterchill takes over

day 6.5

the long march takes her toll on us..
our eye bags darken...
our calf muscles pulling taut against our joints..
but renewed in strength ..
the saw a group of cadets weak eager to retreat..
but we shall stand and we will not yield..

for long now....
the journey has begun
as we walk onwards our differences are cut down
barriers broken
dreams formed
a life beyond the next activity
a life beyond the harsh words
a life of empowerment

as we march onwards
the jimminy cricket within us reminds us
of the image that which we are to uphold
calmness in the center of the tornado
the sense of urgency in a slowly fading wind
the life of a fish battling for his life against the receding tide

just one of them
just another soldier
just another leader
just another you...

the code : move faster think better do more
is no longer a code we live by..
it is our standing order
we must be better
for our alma mater
for our reputation
for our corps
no more will there be me, you, him, her....
but only a we....