DJ Wiz's blog: "Thoughts"

The view from here is always breath taking. With the sun rising from my back, casting a long shadow before me, I draw my sword sit and wait. With last nights events weighing on my mind I try to focus on the days events. With a smile I see in the distance my reason to continue the fight. Such a strange contrast of the beauty she posses and the blood stained battle field. This time the two little faces aren't standing behind her, but in front watching my every move. This poses a serious issue (since problems always have solutions). How to win this battle and not let them see. She smiles and reads my mind, sending them off to play. That smile, that beautiful smile, lights a fire of burning desire in my heart. A passion, A pain. A fear. Kingdoms would fall just to see it. Clergy would sin just to feel its warmth. A warrior would gladly give up his life for a glimpse. I would fight through hell itself just to see it more often. That smile. I wonder if she knows what that smile means to me. I can still see it clearly in my mind. I can still taste her kiss. I an still feel her embrace. Movement catches out of the corner of my eye. I see little man watching, listening. A knowing smile darts across his face. His is different. It has mischief and mayhem for company. My resolve is renewed. The pain of losing just to win. Standing and sheathing my weapon, useless in this type of battle. A fight where not a drop of blood will be shed, but pain . A pain that will scar forever. A scar thats unseen. The knowledge isn't power in this fight, its crippling. It's a death worse than a thousand tortures. A death I must face alone. My thoughts race at a pace I have never before imagined. Then I see her smile. Time slows. My heart grows. In this instance. In this moment. I feel more alive more alert. Then I see the tear. She knows. She knows the pain. I can see it in those beautiful green eyes. Who could have caused that much pain? How can she endure that much pain? My battle seems insignificant beside her. Why do I even waste my time? How could I have been so blind? I see her now. Where was she hiding? The mirrored image of her mothers beauty. I see what shes hiding inside. A pain that runs as deep as her mother's. Her smile is playful yet knowing. A knowledge thats way beyond her years. This battle before me means nothing now. The lives and loves of these three mean more now. My life means nothing if a tear falls. The closer I get to image the clearer I see. On bended knee I pledge: With this sword I protect your lives. With these hands I surrender mine. With this heart I promise to love you. As I walk back to the clearing I begin to understand. I know who I am now. Its with this knowledge I can truly say I love you. And with this knowledge comes a power. An awakening. A surrendering. Then I hear it. Her voice, like a melody. Causing me to stop. The words that become my war cry. The words that would forever change the course of my life. I hear them, softly spoken. " I love You"

The day begins watching a sunrise that strongly resembles a Thomas Kincaid painting. With the orange, reds, blues streaking through the clouds. The only thing missing was the ocean and the lighthouse. The clouds roll in thicker ruining the moment, but define the day. The temperature wouldn’t be that bad but the wind is blowing. The sun tries to peak out every once in a while creating a battle with the clouds. “As I ponder weak and weary…” the wind sings and the clouds hypnotize giving actions to thoughts from dark corners. Corners that you thought were hidden and buried deep. People you haven’t talked to in years or how life is pushing ever onward. Wondering if it has a life of its own, breathing, bleeding, thinking, creating, destroying, and feeling. The radio plays songs that feed the mood “ Lonely Road of Faith” “In Memory” pulling the trap door ever more efficiently, adding weight to clouds. Reminding of the ones missing from a tainted life, wanting to hold, comfort, protect. Knowing the comfort and protection goes both ways. Drawing strength from the memories that haunt, bind, and tie. Drawing ever deeper till it threatens to drown and hold that point knowing, existing. “Dust in the wind…” How easy it is to follow the dust devils. Dancing. Driven. No particular direction. Chaos or just a theory? Can it truly be chaotic if the forces driving it are unknown? What do we actually know with out someone telling us? So is knowledge really just lip service? “Uninvited” are the memories that invade the peace that has settled around. Intruding on a space saved for another. Space saved for happier times forth coming. Plans and dreams hopes and prayers. Behind the clouds a silver lining hides. The sun is still warm. It still rises and sets. The coming rain cleanses and feeds. Cleanses the impurities that choke. Feeds the hopes and dreams.