Skyons

Soft brisk dawn rises to the east. The light dances off the warriors’ armor to greet the sun. The gentle hum of war has begun.Proud and powerful the drum beat rises. The glow of heat radiates from their chants. They march in unison as the welcome death with open arms. The battle has begun.The screaming erupts. The clashing of metal, swords scraping swords. The earth weeps as she soaks up the blood. Bodies scattered over the desert.As the battle falls from its crescendo. The battle, won. Although the men rejoice, the widows mourn. Bittersweet triumph is drowned in tears.

As the thunder cracked and lightning flashed outside, a sudden pounding at the door startled me out of my doze. I stood up slowly and approached the door. Seeing as how I lived out in the country, visitors were rare. Making my way to the door the pounding grew louder and faster. "I'm coming, give me a moment." As I opened the door, I looked down to find a small package wrapped in a red ribbon. Gingerly, I took the box and closed the door behind me. "Odd, I wasn't expecting anything." Placing the box on the dining room table I slowly began to remove the ribbon and the the paper keeping it safe. Opening the box I came upon a doll, ugly thing...

She was gone in a instant. Ripped from the prime of her youth. Like the quick flicker of a candle's light, she left us. Although doctors had given her a death sentence, she took each stride down those hospital halls with grace. And even though each step through those halls brought her new challenges, she held her head high. Then on that faithful Tuesday morning, the earth kissed her farewell and the heavens welcomed her home. And just like that, the light on that little candle flickered goodbye.

Facing up to the ever darkening sky. You lie there on sheets of cold ice, motionless. Battered and bruised with blood stained clothes, you manage to crack smile. And that smile grows into a bittersweet laugh. The realization that, this was it. End of the line. Your prayers rise up up into the heavens for the hope of a better future. And you beg to any god willing to listen that your sacrifice makes a difference. With your eyes growing ever so heavy you begin to wonder, what will become of you once you are gone? Will you be nothing but a legend, an old folk tale told to generations of children? No. No, you shall be much more than that. You ...

Loki would never forget the night Thor had brought him back to Asgard after the assault on New York. Being escorted into that large hall like a freak on display. The tension in there was thick with rage. Each step echoed over the mummers of the elders council as they decide his fate. Thor stood in the far corner of the room, eyes hollowed with pity. Suddenly Loki was taken aback to his youth, oh how simple life had seemed. All the times they had stolen sweet rolls that would taunt them on the kitchen's top shelf. He remembered how they would play in this very hall. They would often quarrel and bicker over who would sit on Father's lap as h...

Don't let go. Holding hands they ran through the pitch black forest. Don't let go. With nothing but the blazing fire from behind to guide them forward. Don't let go. Twigs grabbed at their ankles and necks as if to stop them. Don't let go. Hands gripped tight as they pulled each other on. Don't let go. Bullets flew past their heads like flies. Don't let go. With legs weak but hearts strong, they carried on. Don't let go. And the beating of the war drums crawling ever so closer. Don't let go. When suddenly they stopped. Don't let go. And they stood there, at the edge of the world. Don't let go. Staring down into eternal a...

The city was burning. Ash fell from the heavens like snow. Women and children pleaded for their husbands and fathers who would never return. Sky scrappers had been reduced to dust. Cars hung off buildings like coats on a hanger. And all the while, he stood there. He watched. He had watched it all. He tried to help, he tried to be a hero. But alas it was in vain, for he was no hero. The beast, the monster was too strong. Its rage too powerful. Or maybe it was that he was too weak. He fought with all his little might. He screamed, he begged it to stop. But it couldn't. It wouldn't. So he watched. He watched himself transform. He watched as h...

Oh what a broken world we are. With our poor and sick. With our hate and lies. With our wars and destruction. We are broken indeed. But fear not dear child, for like all broken things, we can be remade. With our love and joy. With our hope and happiness. With our peace and prosperity. And with these things, I pray that this old broken world can be made new again.

They sat there by the fire while it danced before them. A man and a women, aged by the hand of time. The man looked at the women, still rocking back in that old wicker chair. A weak smile broke his lips as his old leather hand grasped hers gently. Her eyes slipped away from the fire and met his. She smiled back. Their life seemed to reverse before them, taking them back to a time long past. They were young, they were happy, they were free. Barely past childhood when their love first struck. But did that stop them? How could it. Through the heartache and the tears, they overcame. With one gracious step after another. In life, they were give...