Monthly Archives: December 2014

The Division in Valor

Some illustration work. Sorry for the potato image quality. Done with vermillion-red and sepia; ink-and-ye-olde-quill.
Character used with permission.
(c)Mayville2014

Valor Bowman (Giant Snake Rider?) – “The Division in Valor”
The Division

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For the Strong Ones Out There

Confession time.
I was wrong. I was prideful.
(You know me…)
Your words mirrored mine,
unspoken.
But I laughed and (It was relief, I promise!)
it sounded like
dismissal.
It was a gunshot, and I couldn’t
take back the mushroomed
bullet.
So I smirked
and told you I’d be strong
for the both of us,
in a way.
(A joke!
We both know neither of us
have to be strong for the other.
Even weak,
we are both invincible
alone.
)
So while you confessed to me,
I wallowed in self-defeating
denial.
(So who’s really the stronger?)

Breaking Currents and Iron Curtains

We’ve let it go on too long.
We weren’t fighting
But we let it get too strong
Like a current.
The wave separated us.
Our entwined fingers…
In the waters’ breaking: trust.
Then it crashed!
Finally the wave has rolled.
We’d been treading.
But now we rip and pull!
We’re worth saving!

Legacy

Many of the greats drank
What an excuse
In the strive to find genius
You slip into a fiery cinnamon liqueur
And you don’t come up
Until the 600-a-day are penned
Or you’ve drowned
Between the hissing and the burn

Many of the greats slept in
What an exemption
In the quest towards inspiration
You slip into dream shoes
Walk a dreamy mile
The sun ripping into your room
Setting your darker belongings ablaze
Your eyelids, dry and stinging
The curtains could be pulled to
If you pull yourself from the throe

The biggest of us didn’t work
Their passion poured into a typeset
Sunrise to sunset
Debt to woeful debt
Room to room-and-board
Forsaken by family
Forsaken by God
Their pride undoing them
The weight of their worlds killing them
The kiss of a cultivated protagonist…
A good-bye kiss

Whispering against your cheek:
“You are here by right
“Or you are here by accident
“But no one chooses to be Great”

I am not a writer of my age
(As the greats are)
My legacy will follow after me
I
Will
Not
Chase
It