Purpose without direction can be empty and blinding
As in the desert nothing will grow but despair.
A small oasis at which to drink offers something.
A sip quenches
The heat quickly takes it.
A charging bull with nothing safe.
Destroy all but what you want without knowing what you need.
Others see what you cannot.
A lonely quiet place filled with screams and crys.
She leads the most powerful army,yet grieves the most
Tears of loss
Battle cry. Of murder.
Torn in two, one asleep, one oh so awake
Awake with a vengeance.
Desire of nothing.
Having all while holding but empty air
Air of a foul stench.A perfume of death.
What will cover it
Will fire burn it,she thinks it will.
Fire cannot burn forever even when fueled by the winds of hate.
To hate can be terrible.To hate yourself much worse.
A pitiful demon fans the flames with satisfaction.Laughing.
The breeze of the fan spreads and touches the sleeping.
Eyes flutter slowly, looking and being disgusted by what they see.
For they view a gargoyle of existence. A purpose without direction.
She must wake fully and strike at the very heart of her own being.
A battle of two is heard around the land but the fighting cannot be seen.
Subdued though not dead the unseeing will sleep so the awakened may rise.
Direction with purpose brings many rewards.
A new road through a forrest of life and wonder.Relaxed with inner calm.
The one asleep a quiet allie.
The one awake now leads.
All lost being regained,slippery boulders now dry.Balance comes.
Eternal voids filled.
Each day brings more.
She smiles at the blue sky knowing at last she is found.
Her heart has never beaten so strong.
Arms wide rejoicing in the glow, holding,keeping.
Knowing the enemy will keep him at bay, try as he might he will not reclaim
what he once had, had but never owned.
For a new warrior walks the earth this day, one who the darkness knows will
Without an army she is the mightiest of all.
He knows it but does not understand it.
She however does.