The Librarian

Once I wanted to be a veterinarian. Then a horse trainer.
Then perhaps a lawyer, or an accountant. It’s true.
I did once aspire to become one of these.
But the truth is, I simply don’t know anymore.

I don’t know if I should ‘go big’ and try out for a politician,
Or simply be one of the small, quiet people who silently earn great achievements.
I don’t know if I should dedicate myself to be someone in other people’s eyes,
Or someone in my eyes.

I don’t know if I should think about my future, or the future of others.
Whether I should earn a large salary, to live a comfortable yet busy life,
Or find happiness on my own,
And in my own time.

The reality is, some of these questions could never truly be answered.
Yet, from the smallest volunteer to the most important Prime Minister,
I believe we each have a part to play. A purpose to be served.
A story to tell.

Like each atom in an already microscopic cell,
Every single one is required to make it a red cell,
An immune cell,
Or even a stem cell.

We are all needed.
It’s what makes us us.
United, as one people.
The People of Earth.

I believe we can achieve anything. Do anything.
We beat together,
Billions of hearts,
As one.

Upon the battlefield
I hear his piercing cry of pain.
These sounds, they stab my soul
Again and again…

As bloody bayonets
Spear pure hearts of truth.
While the bullets fall like rain
And men fall on Death’s fatal tooth.

And as the venom spreads
Throughout these poor mens’ minds,
It poisons their courage
And with fear it sorely blinds
The love that brought them there…

And slowly the darkness binds
Their lifeless bodies with care,
Into the ground where
They were left behind.

He cries to the heavens from Earth,
“Shamed is the man who cannot be without her!”
He yells to hell from peace,
“Greedy is the woman who steals the man’s heart and takes what she will from his home!”
He shrieks, red-faced to a distant land to the clouds above,
“What could this devil-work be?”

A booming voice answers from the clouds,
“Grateful is the man who loves her!”
A sly voice answers from the deep,
“Generous is the woman who gives the man what he on his own desires”
A voice of thousands sounded from beyond the sea and sky,
“A love, perhaps partially a devil-work, is nevertheless a masterpiece”
A child’s voice whispered below him,
“Joyful is the child whose parents love him and whom he may love in return”

He looks down and sees
his past,
his present,
and his future.
“Just remember to love yourself” he whispers.

My lover’s lips are beautiful,
Their face like chiseled marble.
My lover’s eyes are soft and warm,
Their hair falls as curtains of silk.
My lover’s laugh is tinkling bells,
Their sorrow is short-lived.
But one thing rules,
My lover’s Love,
‘Twas truly meant to give.

The fire on thy lover’s lips,
Is measured in the frantic heartbeats
Of thy lover’s heart.

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
And yes,
All of this is true.
But what you cannot see with eyes,
Is what forces our goodbyes.

The mountains so high,
The oceans so deep.
In these places,
I hear lovers weep.
For a time that passes,
Along the wind.
These, the times, when we had not
Sinned.

Wise faces look upon the battlefield,
Their eyes as fire;
A fatal desire
To be free.

When the world spins so fast
That we fear we’ll be thrown
Far off into space
Cold and alone…

When we must dig so deep
To find strength in our heart
To make sure we stay grounded
And find a fresh start…

With a rainbow I’ll see your smile
In birdsong I’ll hear your laugh
In my heart I’ll feel your friendship
And thus, we’ll never part…