Counter Reset 3/09/98
POETRY
By CHRISTEN
The shot ringing in your ears has drained the color from your face. . . And do you dare to re-live the past you have tried so hard to let go of? A solitary tear falls from the eye of a distinguished soldier with a loaded gun in his hands. . . The lower the tear falls, the higher the soldier's white flag of defeat is raised. A battle inside of him has been won by a force that he never even knew existed. Sleepless nights join together endless days of suffering and madness. Soldier just shot a man who never looked him in the eye. Soldier shot a man. . . Couldn't tell you his name. Couldn't show you his face. Couldn't tell you the day he was born or how many children were awaiting his return. Soldier couldn't tell you what side he was on or who, exactly, he was fighting for. . . A single tear falls like rain-- a whole storm in a single drop-- from the clouds that have grown to be so thick that he can no longer see the light at the end of the tunnel, although he's been told that it is still there. Soldier shot a man. . . Scared for his life-- kill or be killed. Watch your brothers' fate be decided by the rage of a man you'll never shake hands with. . . never look in the eye. . . Feel his blood being drawn from your very own veins. Try and remember when living became no more than surviving through the night. The soldier. . . The nameless, faceless soldier has crossed over the fine line between life and death, armed only with mindless desperation and a strangers' loaded weapon. The rain falls on his tired face, giving him a small taste of faith that he'd live to feel the warmth of the sun on his back again, if only one more time. . . Soldier shot a man and fell to his knees, praying to anyone who might care to listen. He's playing a game in which nobody knows the rules. Death becomes the enemy and you realize that the man standing next to you could easily become the man you'd die for. . . No one sees your tear, soldier. . . The shaking hands of the enemy have shot down your surrender flag. This is a battle you'll be fighting forever. . . Nobody's ever told you that, have they, soldier? Night falls. . . A single tear falls. . . The ground shakes, threatening to give in to the weight it holds. Another sleepless night leads into another endless day, full of suffering and madness. . . Soldier shot a man he never knew, but then, there seems to be a lot he never knew. Soldier never knew what side he was on or who, exactly, he was fighting for. . . A whole storm in a single drop. . . **christen** 2/25/99
A man I love is an old spirit He has been a wise person in many lives He has helped many others to change or save their lifes. He has given many the chance they needed to feel love through him. And it was then through him that they found the chance they needed to find themselves. It was in his eyes that they first found the window to his soul Which is like an ancient burial ground holding centuries full of wisdom all beautifully landscaped personally, by him. A man I love is an old spirit that, in this life will die way too young. All who have ever known him have felt his love and have been encouraged by his wisdom. All who have ever known him will remember him always and will forever be touched by the delicate way his long white hair swayed in the breeze but his spirit will remain long after his soul retires gratefully beyond heaven's open gate in God's loving embrace.
This poem is dedicated to all who have ever been touched by the wise and loving spirit of this man who, in four days changed my life, forever.
Yet another day in the battle of life fought by a brave soldier armed with the sharpened sword of hope and the golden sheild of dreams
Hello, who are you? Where did you come from? Where are you headed? What do you wish for? What are your dreams? What do you think love is? Hello, who are you, which I see when I look in the mirror? I could swear I've seen you before. Where are you headed? Do you think you have room for one more? What do you wish for? Or, do you not wish because the freedom of love is enough? What are your dreams? In them, do you have the power to stop the rain? What do you think love is? And is it worth the pain? Hello, who are you, could you be the person I see when I look in the mirror? and someone I don't know looks right back at me?My prince of darkness locked within the shadows of the walls where I can not see you If I give you the golden key to my heart will you come into the light and let me see your soul which you keep hidden within the boundary of a very high wall? My prince of darkness why are you so quiet? Are you dwelling on mistakes of the past when you should be planning victories of the future and enjoying life and all it has to offer of the present? My prince of darkness how long until you come out of the shadows so I can see who you really are? Perhaps you expect me to wait for you for an eternity with a black rose in my hand and an uncried tear in my heart....
Once upon a time I believed in flying fairies that went around the forest healing wounds and making the world all better.... Once upon a time I believed in a beautiful unicorn that would float in on a cloud and replace all of the hate with rainbows and sunshine.... Once upon a time I believed in a fairy godmother who could appear at any time and change my rags to a beautiful gown, my pumpkin to a limosine and my pauper to a prince with just a wave of her magical wand.... Once upon a time I believed in all the stories ever told to me; the fairy tales and legends that always ended with "happily ever after".... Once upon a time I believed in my parents who, in my eyes, could do no wrong. Who, in my eyes, could handle anything and everything. My mother, who, with a soft wipe of my tears with her warm hands and soft heart would stop the pain. And my father, who never cried, and could scare away all of the monsters from under my bed and within the shadows of my walls.... Once upon a time I believed in a world that believed in once upon a time.
I remember being little and praying to the stars a childs' prayer; 'Star light, star bright, first star I see to night wish I may wish I might have the wish I wish tonight.' I then would close my eyes real hard and wish with all my strength that those magical fireballs in the sky could make Mommy and Daddy's anger go away so that their love could come back.... And I remember being little and unable to understand why the stars had not delivered to Jesus the portrait of him that I had drawn and sent up to Heaven on the wings of an afternoon breeze but then had found, days later, lying among the branches and leaves with no trace of Jesus' fingerprints... I remember being little and unable to understand how someone could not love and enjoy their life enough to take it and being even more confused about how God could let me lose someone that I love... But now, I realize every time a child prays to the stars or draws a picture of His son or questions death that God does see and He understands the pain the child feels when being let down And God then helps the stars to shine their brightest, Mommy and Daddy to love, and Jesus' portrait to be hung on the mantle in Heaven. 
