“Luvilia, what is ahead? I thought I heard you jump,” said Menegal.
“You heard correctly. There is a ditch in the path. But be careful not to jump too short,” said Luvilia.
“There is a ditch ahead, watch not to jump to short,” said Menegal, to Ebhali who marched behind him.
Ebhali then said the same to the one behind him and so the word passed on. Swinging over the ditch without trouble, Menegal landed on the other side, while keeping his foot from touching the ground. Ebhali did the same and all the men in Ranifa’s company made it safe across.

Halls drip all around me, halls wrought out of stone
Etched so from a mountain of malice and hate;
Like unto a grave, this room chilleth my bone –
Pursuing my soul to its perishing fate.

Why should I have lived, so to see this dark day?
Hell’s fire reached my home, for my heart, so to tear.
Eternally, cruel – nay! My soul cannot say!
Recalling what happened is too hard to bear.

I weave with the wind, I dance oh so softly
bearly treading at all.
What unseen forces roam arond us.
Am I a dryad, swaying with the wind?
Am I a mythical creature bestowing gifts upon nature? All I know is my spirit is dancing, searching for a resting place.

Sing your song
oh gentle breeze
chant along
you ocean seas.
Raise it high
you broken leaves
among these great
and flowering trees.
Rivers laughing
hearts cascading
over passing
your masquerading.
Grasses wave
their greeting here
silvery grey and
bluish green
pressing down
beneath your feet.
Sunlight beaming
patterns teasing
the mountain dreaming
deep these things.
Stones to tower
high above
climb among
the growing flood of
wild ivy

(This poem is based on Langston Hughes's "Let American Be America Again.")

A nation built on liberty?
A nation built on freedom? No, rather
A nation built on tyranny,
Ruled by despots, where no one else matters.

(This nation is in tatters.)

No longer are we individuals.
No longer is different encouraged.
Be the same, adopt our rituals.
Here, all other nations have merged.

(God bless America, with the lady's robes in tatters.)

Definitely not one of my best pieces, but one of my favorites. A dream of a character from my 'baby story' (the one I work on consantly, but only let people read in pieces), inspired by a daydream of my own. It doesn't require much backstory, but if you'd like me to, I can give you a bit.

Anyway, enjoy.

Is my country worth it?
What have I been given?
Freedom, I can breath and say what I think
Religion, I worship how I wish
Voice, I am a person
Choice, I don’t have to, but I can

Is my country worth it?
My face is unveiled
My body is my own
I am a woman, but yet I vote
I work, but not only at home

Coming to a halt for evening’s camp, Menegal wearily set himself down on the ground to rub his ankle that had swelled up again. He had walked mainly in silence for the ending of the march for he was thinking about Golwitch. Memories of playing in the lake that was in the valley where they had lived as children came into his mind, and of the hunts they had enjoyed together. Taking a deep breath of sorrowful memory, he stood up, and went to work setting up his tent. Before he started, Ebhali came over to him.