Echo

Stare down a bottomless pit,
and then wait for the thump of a fall,

and the sound never reaches your ears.

It has been counting years,
the fall to meet its end
and in the ever lasting free fall
the fears I have I fend.

So to test the theory true,
I screamed my heart to you,

in a hope the end was met,
and the crash caused none dead,

cut through the ominous silence

lest the emptiness be the same.
I yelled at you not yours but my
own fateful name.

I hear nothing new,
I crave to hear some voice,
The pit must be bottomless
for my ears do not meet an echo.
and the free fall is not a surge
and I am no string tied bob,
that will dangle on a string to hang
and then it's state recall.
it is an endless fall.
and the fall it shall be.

Battles ,Annexations and the Wars.

I don't like to boast, display, or serve dutch courage.If a battle awaits I 'll keep my arsenal close.

 Brick by brick we fall a wall, drop by drop we dry a well, pillar by pillar empires fell. The rats brought down Rome  before the cats were unleashed. I have been warned, what now, what difference it makes? The confrontations have kept me awake through endless nights. I have slain my self, I have killed my self and been reborn. What effect you cause with the drums and horns?

We could blow the trumpets hollow of the air that is in our throats but what is the point? Better save up on that breath. You need it to fight, to battle, to win.

The enemies outside and the war is within. We part to annex the next territory. Before we control our wits , our form and our whims.
How ignoble could the enemy be.Sinister in it's suicidal nature. Yet survival is the one stark key that keeps him from winning and you from failure. Who will rest your fidget, your paranoid ways?

We thrive on most poisoned despair but hope is what sees me through. I eliminate chinks of doubt and lies that may cloud my mind as I put myself through the test of endurance, the decree of pain. It is the light of life that I search for and not its friend of fate.

Plot whatever there may be on how you would or you might act. For I know not less or more than one in present , the fallacy of a forming fact.
You defeat the purpose of your life in plotting another existence and end . I live here rejoicing little treasures and building on my long stood strengths.

I do not need a battle to annex what I know I do control. My life I chose to live as a free man. Not a prisoner fearing the end of parole.

The rebounds and the leftovers.

Ricochet, Ricochet,
My words rebound,
Ricochet, ricochet,
there's is a dying sound,
the beat never dies,
the percussion alive
as the drums of the war roll,
and you claim not your share of the toll.
We are in a fight,
You do it wrong,
I did it right?
There's a  membrane so thin,
 that it collapses within
when you knock on that door,
there is rebound no more,
just a gossamer we tore.
and the dying scavenge,
left overs of revenge,
There are no fixes here,
just the wounds that need to mend,
Ricochet, Ricochet,
the paths we walk will bend,
Then there is no turning back,
there is a road to pretense,
I will burn that field around it,
You will not be alee ,
the wind will grip you in it,
and my flames you can not flee.
I was the smoke,
a bitter smoke,
a puff that torched your eyes,
Oh you blinded man of fire
she thought of you a flame,
oh you blinded man of cinders,
smoke and fire are not the same,
oh you foolish man of  common,
You became such wet timber,
Oh you foolish man of common,
I was not smoke nor the water.
Oh, you foolish man of common,
I was the wind, I was the air,
that kept flame alive
and you can not see or bear.
Embers, oh the embers,
I'll spark them and they will fray
and the fire will set alight, wet timber.
Ricochet.
burn, will you burn?
no, please ignite,
the flame that I can feed,
the fire that I need.
I'll rekindle you with the fire,
her passions and desire.
Oh, wet timber.
oh the surrounding hay and twigs,
I want to blow the leftovers away,
Ricochet.