tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-262604742011-04-21T13:03:19.703-07:00The Storytellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00354358146107324067noreply@blogger.comBlogger81100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26260474.post-1145728221674565672006-04-22T10:44:00.000-07:002006-04-22T10:50:21.676-07:00We have reached the end;<br />it saddens me to say.<br />I need you to know<br />the end takes naught away<br />from your beauty<br />and special meaning to me.<br /><br />I love you<br />rightly or wrongly<br />for so much,<br />and that hasn't changed<br />regardless of where we are.<br /><br />I love you for who you are<br />even if it is not enough<br />even if, perhaps,<br />what drew us together<br />ended up tearing us apart.<br /><br />I'll always remember<br />the way we were<br />together.<br />I'll treasure<br />what we've shared<br />deep in my heart,<br />tucked away<br />secret, special...<br />forever.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26260474-114572822167456567?l=newagepoet.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>The Storytellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00354358146107324067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26260474.post-1145727865559237582006-04-22T10:36:00.000-07:002006-04-22T10:44:25.570-07:00A long hall<br />lined with doors<br />it will take a lifetime<br />to try them all<br /><br />I start walking<br />down the long hall<br />trying the doors<br />most of them are locked<br />some open<br />but are empty inside<br />but then one opens<br />so inviting<br />and magnificent<br />I stay for awhile<br />but<br />nothing lasts forever<br /><br />As I continue to walk<br />and try the remaining doors<br />I wonder..<br />what drives me to continue?<br />I wonder..<br />which door will open next?<br />I wonder..<br />which doors should I avoid?<br />but mostly, I wonder..<br />Why do I stop and turn<br />and yearn<br />to go back<br />to the doors<br />I've already opened?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26260474-114572786555923758?l=newagepoet.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>The Storytellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00354358146107324067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26260474.post-1145399866248114502006-04-18T15:32:00.000-07:002006-04-18T15:37:46.250-07:00as I run<br />straight and fast<br />wearing a blindfold<br />made of fear,<br />I feel the weight<br />of expectation<br />bearing on my heart.<br />An exhausted sigh<br />escpaes my notice<br />as I struggle<br />to focus my eyes<br />on the vast nothingness<br />that lies ahead.<br /><br />I never lose a step<br />I never slow my pace<br /><br />wherever my goal may lie<br />I will get there<br />and destroy<br />my blindfold.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26260474-114539986624811450?l=newagepoet.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>The Storytellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00354358146107324067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26260474.post-1145399557967495872006-04-18T15:24:00.000-07:002006-04-18T15:32:37.990-07:00A silent hero perching proud<br />on a grand outcropping<br />(above the rest)<br />face up, neck craned<br />soaking in the victorious sun<br />swollen with self loathing<br />shivering from false praise<br />He has done nothing worthy<br />yet there he stands<br />and gives face<br />to the adoring crowds<br />as they chant his name<br />"cheer me not" he thinks<br />as he smiles at the tossed roses<br />"I've done naught" he cries<br />but the world does not hear<br />there he stands<br />alone<br />afraid<br />ashamed...<br />the crowd roars triumphantly<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26260474-114539955796749587?l=newagepoet.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>The Storytellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00354358146107324067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26260474.post-1145364056786227822006-04-18T05:36:00.000-07:002006-04-18T05:40:56.786-07:00Standing on the shoulders<br />of greater men;<br />on the toes of lesser.<br />I can see the path<br />with great clarity<br />observing all obstacles<br />from afar.<br />planning my route.<br />finally the sun is shining,<br />the dark behind me.<br />I think I will climb down<br />and begin the journey.<br />or perhaps I will stay here<br />and enjoy the view<br />whilst I smile<br />and dream.<br />The sun goes down<br />the dark grows again<br />the road is fading;<br />no time to waste<br />but the sun feels so good on my face.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26260474-114536405678622782?l=newagepoet.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>The Storytellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00354358146107324067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26260474.post-1145363664673634072006-04-18T05:27:00.000-07:002006-04-18T05:34:24.690-07:00Trapped ina cauldron of sadness,<br />lonely in a castle tower,<br />dreaming of a fantasy.<br /><br />The dank cloak illuminates<br />the white knight in dark clothing.<br />Shadows of his past shining<br />in front of him.<br />Unnatural stillness<br />on the path, that leads<br />everywhere.<br />The grey spotted mount<br />blindly carrying the burden<br />weary from the journey.<br />Slumped over in the saddle-<br />fading in and out-<br />blood dripping-<br />from everywhere-<br />red soaked honor-<br />weighs heavy on his soul.<br />The once valiant cleaver-<br />shattered,<br />but still worn at his side.<br />White snoe turns crimson<br />as he trails.<br />A glorious victory<br />to the end.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26260474-114536366467363407?l=newagepoet.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>The Storytellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00354358146107324067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26260474.post-1145224399178784072006-04-16T14:47:00.000-07:002006-04-16T14:53:19.180-07:00Living in a maze<br />without a map<br />every turn<br />leads to another<br />all paths seem the same<br />I go left<br />I go right<br />I've been here before<br />I walk forward<br />there are more choices<br />left, right, forward, back<br />I've been here before<br />Oh, how I yearn for a straight path<br />no turns<br />no choices<br />just a path<br />or perhaps a map<br />I've been here before<br />How long must I travel<br />before I stop<br />and learn<br />to love the maze?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26260474-114522439917878407?l=newagepoet.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>The Storytellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00354358146107324067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26260474.post-1145224024681298482006-04-16T14:42:00.000-07:002006-04-16T14:47:04.690-07:00Where is my Angel?<br />Will she cry for me<br />when I can't?<br />Will she fight for me<br />when I can't?<br />Will she stand in harm's way<br />when I can't?<br />I hope she arrives<br />just in time;<br />because<br />I don't think<br />that I can.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26260474-114522402468129848?l=newagepoet.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>The Storytellerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00354358146107324067noreply@blogger.com0