Missiles (Warriors)

Lie down or be taken. Life is a never-ending stream of missiles being fired at us, past us, some may even collide with our minds, our bodies, our spirits. To be invincible, afforded to few. The warriors. I count my blessings. Daily. Deeply. I thank my vision of God. Not even loosely defined. As I grow so do the fires, the love, the beliefs. The warriors.

We specialise in loneliness, without even knowing. We raise the bar and who can reach such heights? The void can be filled by anything, or admired from any angle. To fill this space though, we must have super powers. We must be able to see beyond the horizon, feel beyond the boundaries imposed upon us. 

I watched a film today. It reached into me, further than some, than others. I always am pulled towards tales of wars and love and the raging beauty of our earth. It was a missile. It hit me cold. Took my heart from under my head. Filled me with hope, whilst sucking it out at the other end. It also had a stellar cast, conveying the horrors and comradeship of war, it had the most beautiful young girl I had ever set my eyes upon, and it blew me away.

Maybe I could be. Too. A missile into your mind, as you read, as you succumb, to the brutal bullet words. Water washing love over. Legs go from underneath. Knees hit the ground. Broken spirit, hope is hovering. Stand up, proudly, or the ground a pillow. From here there is two roads. Only two. She sings, it keeps me alive. I can't even hear her but I know she is singing. Then she appears and keeps me from the gates. Now I hear the piercing sweetness of her. Then she is mine, and nobody can end that. She collects my hand in her own. She leads me into the forest. At last.