Become The Kingdom You Seek

Check me out on Twitter

Become The Kingdom You Seek
Beat, beat, beat, let your heart rage. Let your blood rush through like a howling flood. Let no dam be formed in the veins of your flesh, for much is set for you to gain. You are a spore of your dreams, cease not to the flames of hell. Let no demon cling to the reaches of your eyes. Be still in the ever wavering oceans. Crash upon your shore, conquer the sickness that wishes to devour the dwellings of your soul.

Raise your shield against the dragons, defend against their flaming breath. Your blades purpose is their heart. Rush them in the midst of their exhausted flames. Peel back their scales, drive your blade through their dense ribs, puncture their blackened hearts. Let their impure blood seep from their bowls and die to the oxygen of life.

Signal your smoke, let your army rise upon the imprints of your steps. See the horizon before you become your kingdom. Goad the growth of your needs and give in the prosperity of your surge. Let your skies become a storm of imposition, for you must always be on the path of production.

Leaving no field empty to tending, raising crops for all seasons. Breeding only champions to perch within your empire. Never seek refuge in time of war, for all look upon you. You are not alone in the seeking health, in the desire of wealth, and the obsession of success. Reach out when all seems lost to the chasm of burdens. Be prudent in your actions, never let haste to your blade in provoked emotion. Cry out in the open air and call forth your angels and cast your demons back to the underworld.

For no true king acts in hunger. Appeal your kingdom with ambition, for it is your only dominion. Never act in eagerness, never let lust be your devotion. For kingdoms fall in the greed of flesh. And many find no supplies to restore. Filling their hearts with much regret, becoming an anchor for shadows.

Turning from skies of rival, to skies of apathy, of massacre, becoming mad in the twisted craving to commit destruction. Boiling their blood till it dissipates from all organs of the body. Leaving them dry, thirsting in an appetite that cannot be appeased. Falling to a disease conceived in the reckoning of their own touch.

You are the creator of your walls, of your blades, your army, your whole existence upon your moment of breath. Live it well, live it strong, let no words of another strip you of hope, of your aspirations. You are meant, for the seizing of you.
-----
Thank you for reading! What dreams are your out to conquer?! 
If you wish for more stories such as this, A Man's Traveled Heart

Follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube for unique writings on all three platforms. 
Location: Everett, WA, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
  Step Out! Out, Out from the gloom, The obscure breath of doubt Take stone, break thy yoke, Let trouble fall, let shoulders be lifted, Flow, to the heavens Be but strain no more, Open wide, thy mouth, Let prayer fill thy tongue Be parched no more. Stillness in heart  Though seas roar like lions, And beast snarl among mist, Step,  Out! To mercy of life, Ease, be reborn. Let no shackle of past Be meaning for tear Take hammer,  Fracture the cumbersome Be feet of swift Fill your days with strides, Though dunes widen And heat scorches thy soles. Out, Step out from thy fear, There is another to call To breach, To reach your heart  Though thee be of man, Let not thy eyes of flesh Be the dealings of truth, Wander, In aspect to be whole Be not the coward hidden in cave, A creature curled  Like frightened doe, For he walks beside thee, Like king among his men, A sword of greatness Sways from his belt, Ready, To swing against thy enemies, A presence more bold  Than all the stars of a pitch sky.
Read more

The Moles Never Learn

Image
The Moles Never Learn  I found myself walking in the snow, my head aching with a sharp pain. I feel the back of my head, there is something crusted upon the rear of my skull. I dig my nail carefully into it. I can feel the crust collect beneath my nail like dirt.  As my feet trudge through the sixteen inches of snow I look to my nail and there in my nail is blood. Dried cells of my body. Upon seeing this I become confused with worry. I place my hand once again upon my bloodied skull and began to examine it.  I slide my index finger like the bristle of a broom, back and forth trying to see what wound had allowed such blood upon me. But after several seconds of feeling about, I find nothing. No scratches, no lacerations, nothing.  My worried confusion musters down to mere confusion. I rub my eyes as I am strangely held with a slight daze. As if I have been interrupted from a deep sleep. And the evening air is not helping my situation.  I am comfortably wrapped for a day tr
Read more