WHAT DO YOU SEA
Look out the Window.
What do you see?
I see the golden sand and the sea.
Open the door,
what do you feel?
The ocean wind,
it feels so real.
Walk along the shore,
What do you taste?
The salt on my lips and my face.
What do you Sea?
Tag: writingblog
Only Human
We’re only human so they say,
Yet so much more does fate convey,
Our paths lead across oceans, hills, and sands,
Bringing us together from different lands,
And while human we all remain,
We are so much more than just that name,
We are scholars, artists, leaders, explorers and more,
So whilst we don’t know what’s beyond that door,
We can safely say none are the same,
And that “only human” was never our name,
Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write: Death to Life
The Grim Reaper’s job is not a pleasant one. But is nonetheless necessary. Death people from all walks of life. The Rich, The Poor, The young, and the old. No one is immune. All lives must come to an end. And despite having such a grim occupation, the Reaper tries to make the best of it, asking if there are any last words and whatnot. But he can’t help but feel numb and mirthless about it all. It is a very draining job. But, as he would say, duty calls and SOMEBODY has to do the dirty work.
And so, one day, he was on a job in the slums. As he roamed the trashed cobblestone street, he saw the faint aura of death emitting from a small hovel. He sighed inwardly. Another soul to reap. The reaper adjusted his grip on his scythe and pulled his cloak closer around him and headed towards the hovel. Once inside, he found a woman buckled over on the ground.
“Sorry, lass,” he said emotionlessly. “Times up.”
She looked up at the sound of his voice and he noticed her forehead was beaded with sweat. Then she gasped.
“The baby’s coming.”
The reaper stood, mouth agape.
“What?”
“You must be a doctor!” she exclaimed. “How else would you know?”
Original Fairytales: The Lantern Princess
Once upon a time, there lived a princess named Nilsa. Her mother was a just and fair queen who was known for her charm and grace throughout all the land.
Her father, on the other hand, was a noble knight who fought with the ferocity of a dragon. He was both feared and loved among the people. It was he who named Nilsa, the word meaning “champion” as she would be a champion for her people.
As fate would have it, There came a time when Nilsa’s parents died she inherit the throne with reluctance.
However, word got out of her parents’ death and her father’s enemies began to make plans to attack the kingdom.
But the princess was no fool when it came to battle strategy as her father had taught her of things such as war. The enemies of the kingdom soon Found this out the hard way, returning home with few men, many of which were injured.
The rival Kings held a meeting among themselves and discussed as to how they could take the kingdom as they could not by force.
Then one proposed an idea. They would release locusts on their fields to destroy their farms.
The there agreed to this and they did as they discussed. They collected a hundred locusts and then released then on the Kingdoms fields. After a month’s time, there was no food left in the kingdom.
Nilsa’s people were hungry so she arranged and organized hunting groups to hunt down any available food. She herself was in one and so she rode out into the forest to look for game.
She came across a lady sitting in a stump. She looked haggard and was all bent over and she was very thin. A ragged cloak was thrown across her shoulders.
“Can I help you, Milady?” She asked the stranger.
“I am so hungry!” The other woman said, her voice hoarse. “I have not eaten in ten days. Please, can you prepare me a meal? If it is my last, so shall it be.”
“It shall be done,” said Nilsa. She hunted down a rabbit and killed it and returned to the woman. She then hastily made a fire and prepared it, cooking it brown. She then offered it to the lady along with some water from her own canteen.
“You are so very kind. But You are royalty? Why should you trouble with the likes of me?” The old woman said.
“A queen can eat when her subject’s stomachs are first full,” replied she.
Then the woman transformed into a beautiful shining woman in glimmering robes.
“Blessings upon you, Nilsa!” She said. “For you have proven yourself worthy. Your kingdom is ravaged with hunger but no longer this shall be.”
She then disappeared leaving Nilsa to wonder what has happened.
When Nilsa returned home, she came to find that the crops had regrown, twice as healthy and ready to harvest. Her people celebrated as they had an abundance of food.
The rival Kings marveled at this but resolved to bring Nilsa and her kingdom Down. The Kings held a meeting once more. This time they proposed they poison the kingdom’s water supply.
And so when Nilsa’s kingdom had nothing to drink, she journeyed into the forest once more in search of a new water supply. Upon searching, she came across a rabbit trapped in a trap.
“We are not hungry anymore,” she thought to herself. “So there is no need to kill it.”
And she released it but it did not run away. Instead, the creature panted mournfully and remained to lie on the ground.
“It must be thirsty as well,” she considered. And then she spotted a small well of crystal clear water. Without hesitation, she began to draw the water from out of its dark mouth. She then picked up the small creature and wasted no time in allowing it to receive the drink it had so craved. The rabbit lapped the water up greedily and then, strength regained, began to squirm. Nilsa loosened her grip, allowing the rabbit to escape.
Then suddenly, there was a bright light, and the lady in shimmering robes was present once more.
“Because you have proven yourself once again, I will aid you in your hour of need and quench the thirst of your land.”
And she disappeared once more and, like before, Nilsa returned to her kingdom to find their problem solved and the water not only purified but even clearer than before.
The Rival Kings were at their wit’s end.
“We need drastic measures!” Said one.
The others nodded in agreement and discussed what should be done. They finally agreed on a fire. They would allow the fields to catch fire from the north side of the kingdom and from the south side. The blazes then would eventually make their way to the castle and the village itself, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.
The night of the fire many lives were lost. But more than that, the village and the castle were reduced to nothing more than a few remnants of stone and charred wood.
Nilsa was badly burned but did not give up. That morning, she rose early and made her way into the forest. There, beneath a tree, sat the lady who had helped her before.
“I see that nothing will satisfy those villains but the downfall of your kingdom. But fear not as it will not come to pass for I have prepared a kingdom for you across the great divide. And there you and your people can live peaceably.”
“But the great divide is an uncrossable canyon of darkness where creatures of shadows roam,” said Nilsa. “How shall we cross safely.”
“The creatures are fearful of nothing but the light of fairies,” said she. “This I can give you so you might pass through safely.”
She stretched her hand out and in her grip was a lantern. “Light all the other lanterns with the light from this fire within the lantern and you will live to see brighter days.”
And with that, she was gone.
Nilsa wasted no time in returning to her fire scourged kingdom and telling her people of the fairy’s words. She then instructed her people to pack what material objects they had left and to arrange themselves in a line. Those who stood at the line’s edges and ends were armed with a sword and a lantern so to keep the darkness away.
And so Nilsa led her people into the dark divide. They encountered nothing though dark shapes in the distance could be seen, but they were long gone by the time they were nearing them.
Upon making it to the other side, the people were greeted with the sight of a beautiful, luscious, green valley with a castle at its center. Rivers of crystal clear water flowed throughout the rich farmland that lay in the outskirts of the kingdom and flowers of beautiful color lined the pathway that led to their new home. And there, Nilsa and her people built a new kingdom that became their paradise and they lived there happily for the rest of their days.
The ending for the evil kings, however, was not so happy. Strangely enough, one King’s water supply was contaminated. Another’s crops mysteriously withered away leaving him and his subjects with a food shortage. And yet another’s kingdom had a fire that swept across half of its entirety.
And while these Kings could not tell exactly why, but they somehow felt that it was the work of some form of strange magic. But the answer was far simpler; they were simply reaping that which they sowed.
The End
How to Kill A God
Once, in the great land of Greece, there lived a man of great knowledge who was known to all the people as a great scholar. This man journeyed far and wide and dedicated his life to the gain of knowledge and answering life’s greatest questions.
The Gods found his pursuit of knowledge honorable and invited him to dine with them at Mount Olympus. So the man accepted the invitation graciously and attended the great feast held there in the kingdom among the clouds.
He sat at an immense table and dined seated next to the Athena, the goddess of knowledge and across from Hermes, the great messenger god.
As they ate, they entertained intelligent and interesting conversation until the scholar posed a question to the goddess Athena that caused her to pause.
“Forgiving me for asking,” said the scholar. “But since I have dedicated my life to the gain of erudition, I find no question impertinent.”
“Please, ask,” said the wise one.
The man continued.
“Philosophers and scholars alike have asked and argued over this question for many years so please answer me this,” Then he breathed in sharply before posing the question. “How do you kill a god?”
Athena was silent for a moment before giving the scholar an answer.
“You cannot kill a god without killing humanity,” her voice sounded far away as she spoke. “For we are a part of you and you, us. One cannot live without the other.”
“Athena, you speak well,” Hermes interrupted. “But may I interject?”
Athena glared at the Golden Haired man from across the table before saying begrudgingly, “Speak.”
“You speak wisely, old friend,” Hermes said. “And what you say may very well be true but might I offer our friend another point of view. To kill a God, one must cover their presence with another myth.” He drummed his fingers against the table as he spoke. “Make them less than a legend. Pray no longer and make them the devil.”
The scholar thanked the two deities and returned to his meal.
After the feast, many of the gods mingled and some even danced. Amidst this ruckus, the scholar found himself in the company of Zeus, the Ruler of Olympus and Lord of the skies. The scholar seized this opportunity to ask the king of the gods his question.
The man’s laugh rang loud and strong as thunder.
“We cannot die!” He said. “That is to be a God. To rule to the end of time. ”
The scholar bowed low, thanked Zeus and left his company, wishing to refill his goblet. Upon doing so, he ran into Poseidon who was refilling his cup as well. The scholar, determined, offered his question to the sea God.
“Ah! An interesting question indeed!” Said he. “The answer is you must strip away his power and all that he exerts authority over. For what is a god over nothing worth?”
The scholar thanked Poseidon earnestly and returned to mingle with the guests. As he socialized, Aphrodite glided over to the scholar and invited him to dance with her. The scholar accepted and he guided him to the center of the floor. As they swayed, the scholar asked the fair goddess what he had asked the others.
Aphrodite threw her head back as she giggled, her eyes glittering like stars.
“A bold question, mortal,” said she. “But I shall answer it all the same. You deprive the God of the love of their people. Take away his adoration among those who worship. What is a god who is not known? What worth is he without his tributes?”
The song ended and the scholar bowed and kissed her hand, thanking her.
He returned to mingle with the guests when a loud, boisterous laugh sounded throughout the room. It echoed sharply in the marble room, making all that heard it stop and look briefly.
It was none other than Ares, the God of War. A large presence among the Olympians, he was known for his power and strong stance. He fought fiercely and without hesitation. However, the mighty warrior of the Gods had a surprising charismatic air about him, drawing others close to listen to his tales of wars and battles.
This aura intrigued the Scholar, and it wasn’t long before he found himself at the side of the war god.
“Hello, wise one!” he boomed. “How may I oblige a collector of knowledge such as yourself?”
“I only request that you answer the question I ask,” The scholar explained.
“Ask!” Encouraged Ares, the fire in his eyes ablaze. “And I shall answer!”
“How does one kill a God?”
The God seemed taken aback for a moment.
“A strange question indeed!” He commented. “But I shall fulfill my promise! To kill a God, one must destroy him only by the power of another. An opposing celestial being! A God for a God. For this is how any mighty warrior will fall! At the hands of one greater and mightier than he!”
The Scholar pondered this answer for a moment but did not have time to thank Ares, as the War God had returned to retelling his stories and amusing the mass around him.
“Quite a strange one,” a voice echoed to his left.
The Scholar turned to gaze on a tall, dark figure. He had a goblet of the darkest wine in his left hand and his other rested at his side. HIs tunic was a deep purple and upon his head, a crown of vines rested.
“Dionysus,” The Scholar murmured.
“How very kind of you to address me so,” Dionysus said. “Being one of the lesser Olympians.”
The Scholar said nothing.
“Your silence is wise,” Dionysus laughed. “One must be careful when trifling with the immortal and powerful.” The God took a sip from his goblet and eyed the Scholar curiously. “But you have been quite bold this evening, if I may say so.”
“You speak in reference to my question I suppose,” said The Scholar.
“What else?” Dionysus smiled. For an instant, the two remained silent as they surveyed the party. Then the immortal spoke.
“Would you fancy an answer from a lesser deity, such as I?”
“But of course,” The Scholar told him. “I would be a fool to reject such an offer.”
“To Kill a God,” Dionysus began. “Is no simple task. However, it can be done.”
The Scholar nodded, intrigued.
“Take that what he desires and give it to him. This in of itself is difficult to do for what does a God desire? Does he not have all that he wishes? But upon giving him what he has hungered for, take it away, but not before he has tasted all that he has dreamed of.”
Dionysus sipped his wine once more. Then he turned to the Scholar.
“It seems I am out of drink,” He said lightly. “If you will excuse me?”
And the immortal left the Scholar standing alone amidst the crowd.
The mortal was dumbfounded for a time, mulling the words of Dionysus over in his head. But a feather-like touch against his hand brought him out of his daze.
“Excuse me,” a small, innocent voice whispered. Then two, star-filled eyes gazed up at the Scholar’s face. “Oh! The Wise one!” The young woman’s melodious voice rose with recognition.
“Forgive my rudeness!” Persephone smiled. “I would have spoken to you before now but I was tied up,” her gaze shifted to over his shoulder but flickered back to him quickly.
“But, I can speak to you now!” she led the Scholar over to the balcony that overlooked the city of Olympus, with its brilliant architecture and shining palaces.
“How are you enjoying yourself among the immortals?” She queried.
“Very well, thank you.”
The two made polite conversation and discussed many things. Persephone spoke of what it was like to dance in the spring meadows and plant flowers with her mother all summer and spring long. She talked of Olympus and how her mother always adored the city with its glamorous buildings and fancy gardens.
“And do you like Olympus as well?” The Scholar asked the young Goddess.
“It is my home, but I find it quite… gaudy,” she hummed. “Nothing compared to the Underworld’s palace.”
“But of course,” The Scholar hesitated for a time, then ventured to make his request.
“M’lady, can I be so bold to impose a question on you?”
“Ask it and then I may tell you,” Persephone replied.
“How does one kill a God?”
Persephone gazed at the city and smiled.
“Take away what tethers they to this world,” said She. “Be it be the sky, the sea, or the one they love.” She turned to face the mortal. “That is how one brings an end to the divine.”
The Scholar returned her smile, and was opening his mouth to thank her when a voice called out, “Persephone! Persephone! Where are you?”
“Oh!” Persephone cried in surprise. “That’s my mother! Thanks so very much for the talk,” and with that, the young lady quickly disappeared into the crowd, returning her mother’s call.
“Coming!”
The party was drawing to an end and the scholar was prepared to leave when he spotted a shadowy figure tucked away In the back of the room.
He approached and came to face the God Hades, the keeper of death.
“I never thought you’d make it to me,” he said, his face dark as night. The scholar gazed upon the shadow of a god as he spoke, barely above a whisper.
“How do you kill a God?”
“Your strip away his senses,” he said. “He is made blind and so he cannot feel or here. You take away his ability to feel and send him into oblivion but even then, that is not death.”
The scholar was silent for a solemn moment. Then he bowed and thanked him just as he did the others.
The scholar thanked the Olympian’s and was led out of the grand palace, escorted by a woman in a brown robe holding a lantern. They traveled through winding passages and finally down a lob staircase before they reached the gates.
Upon reaching them, the woman turned, the lantern illuminating all but a small portion of her face.
“My child,” said she. “Do you wish to pose me your question?”
“Why do you ask that, M’lady?” Queried the scholar.
“For I am Hestia, the oldest of the gods,” she spoke quietly, a slight smile playing her lips. “No one knows of death more than I.”
“Then allow me the honor,” the scholar dipped his head. “How do you kill a god?”
“The question is but a difficult one to answer but I shall do so all the same,” she leaned forward, holding the lantern low as she whispered, “You make them forget. Forget who they are and once were and what they will be. But remember,” her voice became more quiet, barely audible over the wind. “What you kill, you must be prepared to become.”
The End
By the Brooke 