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"It all really started about ten years ago," I began, looking over at Phillip for guidance. He nodded as if to assure me of something, and I continued.
Words can heal, words can hurt.
Words can give, words can steal.
Words give hope to the lost.
Words explain the cost.
They fly from lips on fire from Christ.
But also keep the lost unitised.
To continue to live a life of sin.
Those kind of words, they just wont win.
Words can show some one you care.
As some of you may know, I am quite interested in the field of filmmaking, and you can find some of my films here: www.vimeo.com/meridianpictures
Note: This poem is dedicated to HomeschoolGirl for inspiring it with her comment to one of my other poems!
Confounding conundrum,
Twisted test,
Until I solve it,
I cannot rest.
Fiction or fact?
What is real?
Could this alter
the way I feel?
Tipping timescales,
Uniting unknowns,
Answers are found
in the dusty tomes.
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Chapter Eleven
I felt a firm hand upon my shoulder.
“We must get out. They have set more guards in the courtyard.” He steadied me, for I was now shaken when my enemy disappeared. Again, I could feel in my pouch that heavy burning. It made me faint. I nodded wearily and looked into my companion’s shadowed eyes. He did not glance at mine but looked once back again to the courtyard. Together we dashed forwards with our swords drawn to the dark. Towards the Marher we went, while knowing we would not meet him there.