We Went And Left A World Behind

When we venture into a world too big,

We often find that we leave things behind.

Things of value, things of great worth,

Things rooted deep into our hearts and mind.

We leave items we cannot bring along,

For the journey that we must take.

Leaving tiny treasures, gifts of love,

Things that we desperately wish to take.

The warm comfort of home is gone,

As we pitch our tent elsewhere.

A lost feeling resides in our hearts,

We lay here lacking love and care.

Love ones that never left our thoughts,

Love ones we shall not meet for long.

A bitter and thirsty longing to see them all,

A useless hopeful thought, an empty song.

We went and left a world behind,

A world familiar, a world we knew.

Our aspirations are far from complete,

The deeds we have done number too few.

We gaze back at the times we had,

We still have much we have not said.

Tears start to form a puddle at our feets,

We will watch the years go by as we wait.

the call of life

We were born into the world undeserving. We were granted a life we did not earn. The land we were born into, we did not choose. Instead, the land chose us, and gave us its fruit of which we live off. After maturity sets in and our growth taken place, the time comes for our story to be written. The path we choose must be right in theory and right in the morals we chose to live by. We should choose to show our gratitude to this land that brought us up and repay it for the good that we were given. We are bound by an unwritten law of nature to owe our loyalty to the land that bore us. Our honour would be at stake if we chose to violate the pact our ancestors made with the ground on which their blood was spilled. Our commitment should not be an empty one. Only when one is willing to fight to whatever cost would this allegiance be made whole. It is not a right. It is a duty. A duty by which failure to fulfill would mean an inglorious and dishonourable death. Through the ages to come, all of the past will be remembered. The honourable dead will be honoured and the dishonourable will be mocked at even in their death. All people of whatever stand, great or small, rich or poor, ruler or subject, owe the same love for the Fatherland. All were born to the same land. All live through the same hardships. All will die for the same cause.

a recount of the present

Author's note: This is a recount of my entry into a new world that may not be so new. If you get what I mean... though I do not myself. Also I do not feel like typing in my preferred Clapasian fashion, thus please make do with this. Still, you must keep your excitement down as this style may also be queer, and definately not normal. And I know it's a bit late, but I got my internet late.

Extreme Sports

Ever since I have been flung far out into lands beyond the reached of my beloved country, I have constantly been plagued with sadness and a deep longing for my homeland. I lay in my own grief wishing to find peace and yet adventures came persistantly though strongly unwanted. On this first night in an unfamiliar land, I longed no more than a shelter to rest under. Entering the unlit domains of my newly aquired home, a sudden coldness swept across my right foot. My sixth sense informed me of a leaking roof, so I looked up, but I found nothing. My tired and heavy head hung down disappointed in my false judgement. Then there it was. Even as my vision was focused straight forth toward the dusty ground, I could spy a giant black image scurrying around the corners of my fully dilated pupils. I spun ninety degrees clockwise, possibly more, and saw before my awesome presence, a spider. Not any ordinary spider, this one must have been enjoying the peace it had in my empty home prior to my arrival. Without having to use my extremely intelligent brain, I calculated that this spider was either the size of my left fist or maybe even more. Further calculations told me that this would be a one-sided battle. I fled. From one corner of my living room I flung one of my only two weapons (my shoes) at the horrendous creature unknown to mankind, or possibly only unknown to me. As if in slow motion, I watched my shoe rotate its way toward the spider, finally missing it by a good ten inches. Still, it was sufficient and the spider jogged away. It stopped and hid behind a black bag. From that second on, I was a changed man. This spider had totally made the wrong move, that black bag was a possession of mine. A chair was swung in a semi-arch and the bag flew off. The vile hairy scum cowardly made his escape, only to be impeded by my right foot. My left arm holding my other shoe, flew downward while I shouted, "Bankai!" But the filthy spider played dirty by dodging my grand slam. It should have just stayed there. A great chase was made, it probably lasted ten seconds, possibly less. Zooming its way into the garage and dodging my well aimed frenzied attacks, the spider scurried under the family car. In a flash I was off and back again (I even had time for a glass of water), without my right shoe, but with a bottle of insecticide in each of my hands. I ducked down to give the spider one final look at my extremely smart-looking face before I ended its miserable life. It was not under the car. With extreme speed and gracefulness, I spun around firing my sprays the same way Mr. and Mrs. Smith did. I kept spinning, anxious to avoid the smeaky spider's ambush. I dashed through the door and back to safety, fellig dizzy and extremely annoyed at my failure. Then, there on the kitchen floor, I saw two cockroaches that would later suffer my wrath.