We trudge the fetid jungle,
Thinking our green way
Must be an overgrown trail.

Dampness pervades our clothing,
Soddens our shoes,
Drips from leafy branches,
Fails to cool us in the tropic heat.

We ascend gingerly,
Hoping for cooler air,
Realizing the immensity of time,
Of memory moving on ahead.

Shrieking birds unseen
Foretell dooms imagined:
Snake and lizard fangs,
Feral creatures' claws and teeth,
Unseen traps waiting to inflict
Sudden deaths or slow.

Silence arrests us,
As we stumble to a cliff,
Gasping for air,
Longing for coolness,
Stopped in our breath as we see....

Climbing the ranges ahead of us,
Above, and arching up and down,
The great dragon's crenelated back
Undulating over the mountain ridges,
Disappearing into the past.

daydreams take us away
into far of worlds and other days
an immersive play within ones mind
full of many things they wish to find
journeys bring us far and wide
to see sights that are incredible
from sentient robots
to fire breathing dragons
there are no limits to what one can imagine

Her blood runs of anticorruption
Destroying the pigs of corruption
She stands with pride
With justice on her side
Dignity she will bring
She's not someone's play thing
She knows her worth
Since birth
Unique like a volkswagen
And courage like a dragon
She's bows down to no one.
She's like a loaded gun
When injustice is done
Never backs down
Or is she ever bound
she may face  life alone
But She will never be dethroned

It all started on a night like tonight
It was quiet then too
With the breeze leaving
a small whistle in the air.

Fate on the breeze,
But we wouldn't know that until now
would we?
You could hear it though
if you listen to it
Oh, wait is that a crossbow bolt?
You've died.

I look in the mirror,
and I see

                      pox

         scars

                          marks.

I long to be
the round faced girl
that I see in my memories
with eyes that dance with innocence
despite everything she had been through.

                           That saw fairies and dragons
                in the corners of her room

Who talked to mermaids
                                 and danced with bards

Some would call it an overactive imagination.
But I'm faced with the dullness
in my eyes
and I miss the worlds I created.

Because this one

hurts.

Zero chance of good left in this world---
Every day something new happens and
Real life becomes less real.
Only in this world can it be like this. :(

What has this world come to?!