Written In Blood…
Nathaniel L. Akers 05/02/09
Things that are written are things that are seen. Sometimes it’s hard to express what life really means. The greatest writings are from the worst scenes, while others are entertained it cost you everything. Life in shambles, words can not convey---you are no actor and this is no play. The best poetry is written for love---nope--- the greatest poetry is written in blood. Our Savior’s greatest act was the cross that he bared, him giving his life showed how much he cared. Sometimes one must die so that thousands are spared, how can one life to thousands be compared? Insensitive, no this is real---reality goes beyond what we feel. Trying to be something and called to be that, afraid to get it because you know where it’s at. In places where there is suffering and pain, these are the places where our living is not in vain. This is where they get the saying “no pain, no gain”. Surviving with tragedy is only the beginning; tragedy will survive when life writes my ending. The greatest light shines from the darkest of times, forgetting we all must die is the worst of crimes. Success comes after death has taken its due, only after the nightmare do dreams seem to come true. You need help and they act brand knew, they send you grim reaper and the skeleton crew. Loss is life for those that keep on living, and living with loss is for those that plan on winning. Though all around death and sorrow will loom, not living to your fullest potential is the greatest doom. So while life may be written with the finger of love, the ink that it uses is from the well of blood. No one tells you that its writing from sorrow and pain, the times of regret, the times of shame. No one knows from the wisdom you shared, that it came from the stupid things that you dared. Accidents happen and lives are lost, then comes the news and families are tossed. Writing a song from sorrow can bring fame, line by line the paper records your pain. With each line written some ones life is renewed, they never knew you wrote it from being black and blued. They think it’s fiction, but you know it’s true; things that happen that you can not undo. The shadows of death each must walk through, they never told you the shadow was you. You think the greatest poetry would be written for love--- but the greatest poetry is written in blood. There are places in life that I’ll never get, places that I must fulfill deaths prerequisite; Places that wait for blood to be shed, places that men are resurrected from the dead. Places that hold the beauty of life but etched out of suffering, pain, and strife. Etched out of trouble, sickness and death I don’t have to say more you know the rest. Broken hearts and unloved faces, no more dreams and erased traces ---greatness comes after all this rejection this is the only way to get close to perfection. The way through life to reach its end is paved with those that are not your friends. Paved with those that mean you harm paved with those that would bite your arm. Paved with those that would yank the rug and paved with those that would pull the plug; a slave they would make you, yes its paved with those---who would beat you badly and bloody your nose. From ‘tragedy to triumph’ a fancy saying, but the tragedy is so gut wrenching it will leave you praying. Praying for life sometimes wishing you were dead, fumbling through life like you lost your head. Empty places--- loves no where to be seen; when success comes it will cost everything. Poetry and stories filled with beauty and love--- won’t be my story. For my story will be written in blood.
