A song of regret

A vivid image painted in the horizon the dancing lights of an aurora
 The requiem of a tranquil breeze in the airs of spring
winter has ended and thus another year has come to pass
Not a day goes by where I can't stop myself from wondering
What if? and then it fills me with a feeling of remorse the horrible
ichor of jealous and I ask my self why? was it only because
I had done nothing was it because all I could do was nothing
 and with that my shield cracks and slowly my armor chips and fills
with faults as it gradually withers and weakens to nothingness
How long before it gives way and when it does will I feel
sorrow, remorse, or guilt perhaps only because maybe there was
something I could have done maybe should have done
and it fills me with great regret so what will become of this shell
that resembles me yet isn't and I ask who is it that I have become
when I look into the mirror who is it that truly looks back at me?
Am I real anymore, am I still a good man?
what is gone has long since passed but no longer remains within my grasp
for it has passed and shall always be but a faint memory that has burned
itself into my mind will I be able to sleep again who is it that I see
and then I ask a friend again where is it that I have found myself/woken
Who is it that I see none other than myself oh whoa is this err to see
with plume ink and pen I look at the page before myself to illustrate the path before me
and once more I seek to find myself even as lost as I am
I simply must know who I am and when did I no longer resemble who I was
what has lead me to these changes always forever and so...
I seek to know again why It is so and how I have changed
and so to you I bid thee well and wish for ye a good evening
and may you rest as I cannot or as I may no longer and as it may and as it is
it shall remain a dream

The aurora of the evening

There was a beautiful Aurora swimming through the sky
the colors within make me think back to the last evening that had such beauty,
it was of a time where once I was within the calm that followed the storm not preceding but nearby the sky had a green and yellowish color at the hour of the evening of six the sky had a majestic hue which I long to capture within film as my perception of that sky is weathered and nearly gone but to capture the essence of natures beauty and so it to deprive oneself of her majesty as seen once it is an awe inspiring scene but too remove its unique perchance is indeed to spite her beauty.

To write the wrong(s) of the paper and pen

I am not Don Quixote nor am I Heracles but I am a person with passion and strength
of greater proportion than imaginable it may not be physical/brute strength but it is the power
of the pen that is what makes many such as I so powerful as we all could or can thus be
For it is that which gives us the ability to write for a better world of tomorrow and maybe for
a better today. There is much that a writer can do, as a writer it is within our own power to do what ever we can and like achiles I too am human and as such have weaknesses but it is that which allows me to be a writer, that is the power of a writer, to write worlds, people, and more into existence and
possibly write how their life may chronicle pan out or bitterly and sadly conclude and
the goal of the writer is that of a word and to understand the power of any word and the power behind
it as well as how it is used or defined, so as I am a writer, and I too shall right the wrongs of the world by paper and pen (or with the/my arsenal of other tools that may form the written/typed word).

A question to myself: Who am I?

I am who I am regardless of my name
I am who I am even if I may change
I am who I am whatever is to become of me
I am who I am and will always be myself/me
I am someone who may make mistakes, may have regrets, and sorrows
but as such is within myself and also for I am Human
am I still curious to who I may be the only way to know for certain is to
explore...

  I will make mistakes and errors and as such to all who know I am (a) Human!