  Okay, so I havn't posted in awhile, don't give me shit. I can't sleep, and this is a growing problem among many teenagers today. It is once again, a late night on the old computer, creating art using a keyboard and Microsoft Word. Now these lines may not be directed to my own emotion or lively experience, but more so for either enjoyment, or simply out of empathy.
You choice... Invading stranger in my face, Grabbed a gun and joined the chase. Ran along a freezing stream, To hunt down what can't be seen. Foot prints in the mud, that's all we find, We have to catch the culprit, there's not much time. Running through the trees; tripping on the roots, Feeling the briars scratch my legs as they force their way into my boots.
Panting, Sweating, Scratches bleeding, Wondering who in this race is leading. If we don't hurry, will it catch us instead? Will it cruelly torture us and leave us here dead? What is that light, that glows in the snow? It is none other than our fleeing foe. Fallen, Frozen, Stiff as death, Long ago exhaled was its last breath. In the morning, the truth will dawn, For it is us that are truly gone. Alright, so you know that kind of awkward silence that occurs when you are in a conversation with them and you really either don't wanna be there or you don't have anything to say at all?
Well I just thought of that, and it made me feel wierd. Anyway. Quick to fly, elusive spy That follows my footprints in the sand. Closing space of death retake My memories, sealed and locked away. Blessed sky, born to fly But never too high, lest ye never land.
Life upon a gentle windsong A loss, fleeting, but never dismay. End, Start. Through the looking glass you can see Something that you long for and desire You strike the glass to get your prize Only to have it stand firm For this glass is not yours to break Your prize, in wait, on the other side Looking as lovely as before Is the glass really your prize? Or is it even there On behalf of some other will Or, even worse, is it mine Concocted by me To hold myself back I pray not On to other news, this is infroming everyone that does not know so far that I am striving to be the Co-President of my school.
This requires me to write a speech. Tough. The smoke clears, and the battlecrys end. Blood drips like beeds of sweat down my face. On my knees, pain overwhelming, there is no end to this battle of mind and soul. Why must I be beat? Why must I be hurt? Why must I lose my faith, my sanity, my life! There is no one left. No more sheilds, no more swords. No more armor, no more arrows. Just one left, Me. I get up, legs wanting to drop off, arms aching with pain, my body is running on empty, But, I shall not give in, my heart races, my soul urges, and my mind fights.
I run. I run and run up the hill, up the hill of Insults, of slander, of rumers, of lies. Up the hill I fight daily, never to see it from the top, because i shall never win... A man fighting the world's ways in offence is like an uphill battle. she wallows along the written path searching for a driven answer life itself shall overcome the wrath like a brief windy swirling stir out between the leaves of wisdom peering forward are nature’s eyes lending her powerful hand from into my soul her heart lies K, I am getting alittle tired now... thats pretty much the stuff I have written in the last 2 days, but most of it was done in the last hour or two that i was on here.
I thank you for reading my creative writing/ art. I really enjoi Jorbrugund, and I hope that it never dies, good night. In the whisper of spring I walk down a road with my love by my side stroking her back with my hand nudging a smile out of her step by step one closer then the last.
In the whisper of spring we walk into the tangerine sky sunset painting the clouds time slowly stops as we move on two hearts racing in life faster and faster while we run out of sight. In the whisper of spring our walk paces slower tugging eachother closer the grey night comes out of hiding and a chill covers our lives colder and colder until the first morning light.
- This poem was more personal, and also I would like to let that personal person know that I miss them very much. 
