Its not really missing...
The Welsh have Hiraeth
The Portugues have the Fado
An unexplained Longing for..some say Home
An idealised place,and time when your far away.
Its not really missing
It never really was...was it.
It is a Pleasant Fiction no?
To create remembrances of the good old days
Was it that good
Were they.."That Good"
What i long for?
Peace of. Mind.
Peace of Spirit.
Peace in my Body.
To shut down the fractious divisiveness
Between the mind
Body and Spirit
So that the essential.."I"
Can practice peace
That foregone idea of "finding" Peace
That longing for a moment of
For a taste of
Peace is a process
A discipline i practice every day.
Like any art
Perfected by practice...
You fight pain vicerally..first in your head
You fight pain emotionally..in your spirit
You fight pain physically..with a good doctors help.
Pain wont conquer you.
Your spirit follows your mind in this
All this To help the body..where you live..understand?
You are right here
Not somewhere, some..when
You begin to take the Battle to pain
Take the Beast to task
Want this with all your heart!
Want this with your spirit
Longing for what was
Is a pleasant fiction
Take that longing...
Use that energy to fuel this ambition
To duel with the Beast every day.
We will be right here by your side
Brothers in arms
Shield Maidens of the finest Calibre
Of the Finest Valor.
You will NOT stand alonei n your hour of need
We wont leave you alone to face this enemy.
If yyour sword breaks
If your shields and walls should fail
We will stand with you.
I wont say fall with you..that..is your choice.
Falling..is not failing.
Its the measure for the cup...
I get up
My cup overflows..i fall, it spills
But then again..I will never be thirsty....
All you have to do is call out
All you have to do is join the line
All you have to do..is want it.
Be Blessed Spiney
I'll see you in these damnable fields..(sorry)