Einhorn

Like every other story teller, I just fail to ignore the call of untold stories, so I narrate...

Friday, May 25, 2012

Change

Telling me that I could not change the wrong in the world and that a different one is not possible
is like trying to break my sword in half with your bare hands.
It would not even bend - and so strong is my will to fight - and just leave cuts or bruises on the palm of your hands I hold so dearly,
in the end leaving me the bitter sorrow of having hurt you with a blade which has not been pointed at you.
The sun that rises while you sleep soundly in bed shall be the witness
to all the years I have been wielding this sword
- never got through with solely bearing it -
and the same sun will tell you that dreamers like me would never find another purpose,
no destiny but to be wildly chasing those dreams.
It is not naivete nor blindness that makes us fight and keeps our dreams alive,
but rather the sheer will power
to refuse seeing what they want us to see
and to believe that the future to come shall be one shaped in our own hands.
Even if all I can were no more than going on the rampage and throwing myself against the bars of a cage over and over again,
with hands tied and rattling chains weighing me down,
I would still make sure that the wardens of my prison get no peaceful sleep,
having to hear this cage shake with each strike.

 

* I know I would eventually change the song to something like "Victory Songs" or another one with swords and blood and harder text, but for now...



** See? I knew I could not just stick with something as harmless and be satisfied... although not even this song quite brings out the fury and demonstrates it.  

Tuesday, May 01, 2012

People in your Life


There are those people who would step into your life at one point or another, whether you mark their first step as being exceptional or not, and then they start stepping deeper and deeper inside. They leave very clear footprints and sometimes it is out of the question to track where they are headed.
And then it comes, the time when you realize that they already too deeply entangled with your life, that they have gone so far already that there is no longer a way out in their sight, looking from where they stand in your life.
It is then you are overcome by the warm and joyful trace of their presence, their simply being there; and it is also then you finally get to taste the fear you have been avoiding, simply for you would know very well that from now on their only way out of your life would include them ripping it all apart, maybe even into a zillion pieces.
  
p.s. This was originally meant to be a joyful Ode to those who have come so far into my life!