A warrior with clean armour
Has not seen real battle
He bares his fangs
But bares no scars

A bladeless sword
All for show
A conversation piece
For cowardice not war

A rusted knight
With a heart of gold
So cumbersome
It became a curse

A war for wimps
A social life battle
Casualties of black sheep
Are the real fallen soldiers.

there going to cull the badgers the creatures of the night
reducing all there numbers take them out of sight.

they say  they spread diseases to cattle in the field
now the badgers fate is well and truly sealed.

it seems such a shame to **** them all that way
why cant they find another place and let the badgers stay

your eyes, your lips
the gentle way you kiss my fingertips
and press yourself against my hips
i ache for one more kiss

I find no comfort in my bed
Where ther once was peace
Now lies dread.

There is a Buddhist proverb about loss.
when a vase breaks, do not become saddened
the vase was never going to survive
until the end of time.
In time, all things break, fall, leave, die
but it was all going to happen no matter what.
so when the vase cracks, shatters;
there has been no loss, only a fulfillment of destiny
In this way, all things make their end,
and their peace, with the earth

But there is one thing the Buddhists forgot
time
Yes it is true, that it is the course of all things
To leave ones life at some point.
And perhaps it is destiny indeed.
But there is loss.
Time cannot be brought back, replaced, or remade.
all of the time we were supposed to share is gone

In the end, time is also destined to run out.
Maybe time
Is the only noble loss to feel sad about.
No attachment to physical things;
Vases, cars, bodies, buildings, grass, or a book.
But rather an attachment
To the future- all of the hope and dreams of what's to come.

I am at peace with all of my losses
Except for that of time