This is a glance at my writing when I was still at high school. I was seventeen and very busy with a fantasy novel at the time. I think the genre greatly influenced my view of reality and everything around me. The entire piece was written on a chalkboard in a very sudden and mysterious moment of inexplicable inspiration.
The time it takes to breathe is not as long as it seems
to those who can no longer feel the weight of their soul
-holding them down
to this place of love and hate and war and peace,
of horror and roses and shadows and moonlight.
Even in life they see not light,
the day is black and the night
is a blanket of emptiness they own ...
the stars the scars of heroes unknown
and gone to the depths of hereafter
where everything is the nothing
that they have thought to become.
But the world it does receive your plight,
it breathes and grows and gives way for light
not to restrain the night and what comes at that time.
The Soul, it claims all that is, all that was
and what is yet to come.
To learn is to live,
to think is to be,
to do is to achieve
what may bring us together
or tear us apart and reap our misdeeds.
The choice is the key to the door of the heavens
- the decision is our road to what is good
or otherwise not.