Don't tell me the dragon's been vanquished,
surely he has more fight in him!
I would have guessed
he'd shoot me another riddle,
make me run in circles
wondering who would die first;
I would have thought that
I'd spend my whole life
with a sword in hand,
chasing after him.

Is it true?
Has he fallen off his plateau, his crevice
crumbled before him?
That brute lizard finally gave up?

What's left behind him,
I'd try to see and delve into his caves
searching for clues if I believed it,
but something makes me think that
just because he's dead to me,
doesn't mean he's been vanquished.

Don't tell me the dragon's been vanquished,
it's surely not that easy!
I had thought that maybe,
he wouldn't give up his bed of lies,
tossing and turning,
his chest bellowing with flames and smoke,
I expected a temper tantrum or
roaring deceit, screaming acid and blood,
and I imagined my sword
falling to his feet.

From the moment we start living,
From the moment we take our first breath,
We fight.
Such a tiring fight life gives us,
But how fruitful and capturing joy can be
When we finally rest,
If only for a moment.
The world will keep spinning,
So we fight for it to spin in our direction,
So that maybe after we leave,
Someone will remember the one soul out of billions of others
That fought for them.
This is a trying life,
It's cruel and swift and so very, very beautiful.
And often we fall and break and scar ourselves beyond recognition,
And we lose.
And sometimes losing is too much.
Sometimes we can't fight anymore.
Sometimes we lose sight of just what glorious jewel we've kept,
All this time.
But this life is a cursed blessing,
It's a fight.
And it begins,
From the moment we start living.

hiding behind my door
listening to the voices
screaming outside
familiar but they seem
so distant.
I'm stuck in the middle
this happens every night
when it's over we sit in silence
as night turns to day
they start again.
where am I meant to go
when this place I call home
feels like the opposite
I don't belong

hard for me to comprehend
that it's reality.
this mess that we're living in
some days I think it's over
and it starts again
...

Teach your children love
And the importance of affection
Show them what love looks like
In your words and kindness
Tell them that they are always deserving of love

If you fight in front of them
Show them that that is not all
Show them there is love behind every door slam and every walk out
When you are crying by yourself
Show them that you can cry together
That even when you are not loved, you are not alone
When you give up on each other
Remember to teach them to not give up on themselves
When you decide to leave
At least pretend
Show them that your love for them is too strong to break a family

Because when you don't teach your children that there is love in everything you do
They will grow up expecting hate from the ones they love
They will grow up in the comfort of loneliness
And they will grow up dreaming of a family
Because they never knew they had one

She stands on an abandoned sidewalk alone
New to this
Her hair red as fire
Jeans torn like her heart
And boots black as night
Shes been through a lot
But still smiling
She was much like the phoenix
Risen from the ashes of the past
Looking to the future
And burning with a fire deep insider her
She wasn't afraid to go or it

what's the point
when your caged up
with nothing to loose
no light at the end of the tunnel
no home to sleep at
just nothing
wanting to run away from the pain
the blame is on me
what's the point

Fire and water,
Tsunami and blaze in the forest,
Love is now broken,
The thief and the knight, the fighting gone global.

Because sand of the sea
doesn’t match with the mountain’s snow.
Wolves don’t like oaks.
Just one month they loved one another,
But can’t tell what for.

And it’s nothing but their pain
The knight is busy getting drunk with dad,
While the thief is not done bleeding
Because his called him things real bad.

Now that they switch to blade which they throw, but the both miss on purpose, “why won’t you **** me?”, “ I can’t stand the thought or your blood running cold before mine does”. That was the answer and an air kiss.

End of storm,
Back to rivers
Waters go.
End of fire
Black as saints’ hearts,
That’s how grass fields now glow.
And they lay down
On them, blessed
With ache all over
Their bodies where dreams flow.
And there is a painting
On oaks wolves painted
Using the sand and the snow.