The Mark


The Mark

The mark of the wise,

Travels through the moon.


And the mark of the brave,

Wanders through jungles.


And the mark of the kind,

Warps through memories.


The mark of the strong,

Travels through lands.


And the mark of the leaders,

Wanders through history.


And the mark of the confident,

Warps through obstacles.


The mark of the loyal,

Bonds through fires.


And the mark of the patient,

Accounts for rewards.


Mix these all up,

Get the mark of the innocent,

And you will be, my friend,

Traveling through heaven.





Walking solemn like a wolf,

On the dreary path,

I gaze at the valleys,

Expanse to the sea.


I face the moonlight,

Shining upon my face,

Time runs by,

As decisions flail me.


I gaze at several open doors,

Not sure which one to choose,

The decision is mine, all mine,

Yet my mind doe

s not comprehend.


I choose the door,

And I wait.

I wait,

For the final verdict.




Strutting quietly,

                       Alley everywhere, all dark,

                       No light, torch, or eyes, cloak over

                       Head, and stooping down,

                       He carries a paper and an arrow,

                       I watch, keenly,

                       Cloak over my back, covering me,

                       Standing with a bow.


And we face, eyes determined,

                       Face set in lines,

                      Smiles lingering,

                      We tense, and say,

                       “Goodbye, rival. May we meet again.”

                      And with that, we shoot.