Rise

Resist the urge to lose all hope,
Impose your will, and wave off the world
Set your mind, and set your jaw.
Embrace the battle with flag unfurled.

Recall the dreams you held in youth
Imagine you can gain them still
Simply take a step and then one more
Each one calculated with utmost skill…

Rage against Desperation
Ignore the voices of doubt
Seize all opportunities
Earnestly cast naysayers out.

Raze the fields of uncertainty
In which seeds of doubt are planted
Set a Temple to Victory upon the ashes
Ensuring Triumph of your Will be granted.

Remember you only lose if you quit
In everything see the chances…
See every day as a divine gift…
Every day an opportunity to make advances...

The Last Ember

In the cold darkness

Where the light faded to black,

Much to my surprise:

I found an ember

Barely showing but glowing

Within the ashes.

A funeral pyre,

A mediocre dust heap

Barely of notice. 

No carved monument,

Or stone chiseled lettering

To mark memory...

Just another mound

Given over to the past

To be lost to time. 

But...I found it still,

And I saved it from that grave

And held it in awe.

How could it survive?

The flames had long since died out

And it should have, too...

But, Lo! I hold it!

It's heat seems to be growing, 

Fighting the coldness!

And indeed the light

Seems to be increasing too 

Dispelling darkness!

What is this magic?

What God or Goddess preserved 

This ember to find?

Oh, I would thank them

For this chance to rekindle

The flames long since fled!

From this wee ember,

A mighty flame shall spring forth!

Remastered! Reformed!

Not sparked to devour 

Bodies, hopes, or shattered dreams, 

And erase them all...

No. This ember's flames

Shall become  a beacon's torch

Of vision and hope. 

This divine torch flame 

Shall make all the pathways clear

As long as it burns.

It Shall burn away

Hopelessness and confusion 

And unworthiness...

Mediocrity 

Shall burn as a sacrifice 

To be consumed whole,

Replaced with greater

Vision and Renewed purpose!

Blessings from on high!

And perhaps it may

Burn bright enough for others

To find their way too...

So, glow, ember, glow!

I have big plans for you yet:

Light my way to dawn!

Spanish Sunset

Recently, I was playing a game called Supremacy 1914. Addictive, frustrating, fun, boring...it all depends on the game you choose.

I started as España, and at my Empire's peak, I stretched across Europe into Poland. But it all came tumbling down in the end, with a massive united front from a Terrible Triumvirate of Britain, Germany and Poland in the North, an insurgency of Italian troops from some far flung colony, and the Algerians flooding from the south. 

 As I pushed my forces at wave after wave of invaders, I watched it all tumble down in helplessness. 

I couldn't help but write this before the end and post it to the 'Newspaper' in the game.

Please enjoy my sorrow...

Spanish Sunset

The world appears darker,  doesn't it now?

For As the sun sets on the age of Spain, 

While allies ask themselves why And how

Civilization recoils in pain. 

Barbarians seize what is not theirs

Railways, and harbors that caused them no sweat, 

Factories that build for the seas and airs,

The barbarians celebrate.  And yet...

Deep in their souls, there is something that stirs,

A small voice that whispers into their ears

That their triumph will make their lives way worse,

But they drown it out with boisterous cheers.

And now..

A bow.

For the jewel of Madrid has fallen,

And the living know that death is nigh

For the souls of the dead are callin'

And the Red and Gold can no longer fly

Arriba España once cheered in the streets

Now whispered by ghosts of the dead at your feet

Arise, dear allies! Correct this disgrace.

Avenge the fall of the Great Spanish Race. 

¡Arriba España! no longer for cheers.

Arriba España... a whisper with tears.

The Europos 19

In tunneled earth, they marched at the ready,

Nineteen men prepare to battle their foe.

Their senses keen, and their footfalls steady,

Eager to strike a victorious blow

Against the Persian rats digging like moles

In the attempt to sneak under the wall.

For if the rats should burst out of their holes,

The legionnaires knew the city would fall.

They were prepared for a close quarter fight

But were caught off guard by billowing smoke

It stung at their eyes and it blurred their sight.

As it flooded their lungs, they coughed and choked.

One by one, the proud defenders of Rome

Gave their last choked breath on the tunnel floor.

In that moment, they thought briefly of home,

And then the proud sons of Rome were no more.

They would not know that their deaths were in vain,

That the Persian mole rats would soon prevail,

enslaving survivors, leaving the slain

And now dead city to the desert's veil.

Noone to mourn them, or to give them thought...

 Nor to remember their names or faces

 Or how heroic and bravely they fought...

 What Persians left, the Sand left few traces.

 But we remember those who resisted,

 And though their names are lost to time and sand,

 We know this at least: That they existed!

 Proudly...defiantly...they made their stand.

 

 

 

A Prayer to Freedom

Libertas Ultor, on this Hallowed day

With incense smoking, and candle burning, 

I bow my head and I solemnly pray

For fulfillment of your people's yearning:

That you break us free from the traitors yoke,

And the slaver's chains forged by foreign hands,

Fall to the earth shattered, we here evoke

Your spirit that we may rid from our lands 

Those who would have us groveling through life;

Who, our peace and Freedom work to oppose,

By backstabbing us with a foreign made knife, 

And whore themselves as assets to our foes.

Remember our fathers before us,

Who declared their children forever FREE

And praised your name in rousing chorus...

Return to their children our destiny!

Let it not be said that we faltered here,

Or that our prayers and faith were in vain.

Let our children see in some far flung year

That we stood Free and Proud, and still remain!

Libertas Ultor

On a Golden Passing

Remember Remember 

That last day in December

When we lost the great Betty White.

Our optimism dimmed 

And our new year now grim

we faced the future with fright...

We drank not out of cheer

Or to greet the new year

But in a solemn communion, 

For a golden girl's end

The last of our friends,

May they have a wonderful reunion!