I take the vantage point not from desire for victory as the ego-driven do, but rather from a sombre feeling of duty that is so solidly within my soul; strength and surrender come together for the wise, for we are only truly strong when we protect the vulnerable. A leader can walk ahead in times of trouble, to show the road forwards, and then in the good times walk behind in a role of support and steady nurture. Only this dynamic style can bring strength to the population, whom must always be developing the psychological maturity for leadership too.
The boy's eyes were green but not the kind of shade that's easy to describe. It was almost like they were both green and yellow at the same time, with blue creeping in around the edges as if it were trying to take over. He blinked and the beauty was momentarily covered by the shield of his eyelashes; naturally long and soft looking - feminine compared to the rest of his well structured features. By the time the boy's eyes opened again, I had still not recovered from his intense stare. It was a stare that communicated the boy's former pain, and his wish for me to let go and to move on. But I could not move on, just as I could not forget those glaring eyes whose light never faded even in death.
I can name all the colors of rainbow before you can finish counting to seven. I can name all thirty-two colors of Nate's striped dirty blanket. I know the names of all shades of orange, each faded differently from washing.
I can tell what the color of the slide was when Nate and I played there the last time as normal elementary school kids. I remember what color I was wearing when I was first stripped down, or when Nate first showed up covered in blood. I can even name all the shades of red there was on my pants, on his shirt.
When I shoot up a firecracker, colors become just a conception, not a real thing. Even the sky looses the name for its color. I wish I knew what those colors were called. The only thing I know is it will not fade away, but it will spread into infinity, each tiny bit taking a part of me, flying me through different galaxies.
But then, those little firecrackers don't go far before falling back to the ground.
Wars rage on, soldiers fight. We pray for the safety of our loved ones, their only photos shattered into a million tear-stained fragments. We sing melancholy songs for the nightingales who swoop through the sky carrying our whispers of encouragement up, up, up to heaven, where our lost ones frolic in a land unlike the one below, so consumed with rage, hatred, and greed. I wish we were up there, a happy family all together not a grieving family torn apart by the selfish deeds of men who seek happiness for themselves and themselves only, for we, to them, are lesser men, servants considered with cold utility rather than love.
Bottle in the Sea
To Whomever Receives This Bottle:
I never expected that I'd be lost and forgotten to the world. I suppose I write this hoping that perhaps you will remember this note sometime after you finish reading it, and in that way my memory lives on. Somehow that's enough. Now listen closely, if you've found this bottle it means that even though it has been tossed to and fro by the waves, perhaps pulled by the undertow and cracked against the rocky reef, it still found you. With that being said, life may break you, but know you are too strong to shatter. Your journey is your own. Do not be afraid if it's perilous. Take heart. Face your worries for they will be too afraid to face you. Ride the currents, do not let them control you. Listen to your heart for it is more than just a beat. The one you seek will find you when you least expect it, and they will give back what your journey has taken away. Your boat, your guide: you chart your course, not anyone else. Take responsibility for your faults, but do not apologize for them: they are what make you human. Dwell not on your mistakes, because your mistakes will sail you on the greatest adventures.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, gently rubbing her arm. Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of her body pressed against his. She sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. His touch made the room warmer somehow, her future within its walls seeming a little less bleak.