A writer can really only write about themself,
They are the vessel of words spoken within.
Like a secret door opened with a book on a shelf,
They reveal their true meaning like drunk on gin.
Author: John Knetemann
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No Guts, No Glory
Denying your fears is not facing your fears,
No guts, no glory is the call of the prophet.
Misunderstand that and more ugliness rears,
Your ego will hold you on a leash like a pet.
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So… Now What?
Do you even remember when you turned your back away?
Can you recall when you accepted the lies?
Have you forgotten when you forsook your love and dreams?
What happened to make the make-up and paint go on?
Did you do it for revenge?
Did you do it for money?
Did you do it to protect yourself?
Did you do it out of fear?
Did you not know any better?
Did you do it because so, too, was everyone else?
Did you do it to ease the pain?
Does it matter?
Does it really matter anymore?
You have this one life.
This one life.
That is it.
So… now what?
Will you reclaim your power?
Will you pick up your crown?
I hope you do, whether you are king or queen or anything in between.
I hope you do…
I hope I do too…
I am rooting for you…
After all, you are the only one that can save yourself.
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The Trojan Horse
Yet another attempt for the Greeks to break in.
Offering a gift to penetrate the city walls.
Under the noses of the gate guards, the gods grin.
Readying a raid on empty market stalls.
Mysterious is this horse given to Troy.
In the darkest hour, the attack will deploy.
Never expected is this fateful strike.
Death comes and so, too, the fall of a reich.