Micah Park Biffle

  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  T...

I have been writting poetry on medium, does anyone still wish me to write short stories on here? 

   A Wanderers Inn   I have been traveling for thirty days. My horses are weak and I thirst dearly for water. My belly aches as hunger constricts my gut. I am fearful of death in such an unsuitable way. I have always seen myself dying in daring act of life.  Be it in war or the saving of a child. Or maybe, even in the defeat of a dragon as I get one last blow with my blade before it strikes me down and it falls to its death beside me. Feeling its last breath of heat roll over my body as our eyes see only our fading souls.  I have always thought my death would be glorious. Yet here I am, traveling alone with no more rations, nor water. My horses no longer walk with fervor but lackadaisical steps. And so I pray to find shelter before the cold takes us. Before the empty plains of barren trees and darkness finds us.  I wish not to be detritus before my days. Decaying slowly to the maggots as my body lays helpless upon the earth. Becoming a gruesome ...

The Council   I stood in the door way as Count Dreygon lit the candles. His long neck stretching over the wax hugged wicks. Lifting a match so carefully as not to disturb the flame even the slightest. It was odd, how he wished us to be in silence the moment we reached this cathedral like structure.  Our conversation prior had extended from his stead to the very entrance of the building. Before we entered, he turned from the door way placing his index finger upon his lips in gesture to keep silent. I had no reason to not agree nor be concerned. As I had agreed to meet those that had helped him to obtain a position among the council.  His mentors, I was told. And I, one with ambition to be a part of the council was willing to do as Count Dreygon asked. So my ambition and curiosity have drove me to this very chapter of my life.   As I stand in the doorway, a draft of wind soars into the building with what feels like the need to be noticed. The ...

  The Wretched   I hear them knocking on the door, their voices acting in kindness. But I know their intentions their wants. Their need to calm their craving of this false way. They are putrid to our earth, rodents that feast upon the feeble and spread disease of our touch.   I can feel them, their cold empty presence, just as I. But I did not bow to the corruption. The naive lies of their power. And now here we stand, me against them. Me against my own, how odd. How unsightly that we have drove ourselves into this.  Into this chaos all for the sake of their incessant need to be all. To be the deciders of the world. They were once nothing, just as I. We were once the subtle voices in the night that preyed only upon those who wished for such. Who approached us with peace.   But now, now we are vermin loitering the streets with our madness. Our corrupt fever of existence. I can smell them, I can smell them as I smell blood. Their tongues cove...

Six Feet Deep  The gloom, the despair, the anguish of existence. Oh how woeful be my life, my ever fading soul. The darkness will consume as I be but a frayed wick upon its last flame before I am snuffed. Oh how dreadful this be.  This miserable undertaking of life, doomed, doomed, doomed we are! As doomed as the ant is in the grasp of a child.  Be that life? A child with naive and destructive intent? Innocence mixed with desolation of those beneath it?  There is no escape from our fate. We surely all end as does the bright colors painted upon our once youthful faces.   I can hear it already, the wind of death howling over the jagged cliffs, sweeping through the pitch of woods. Cresting over the rolling hills like an army marching with triumph. I can feel it, its cold hands wrapping around my frail neck.   My breaths forming to the bitter air about me. I can see deaths eyes glowing from the shadows of my thoughts. How terrible, how frightful, ...

   French Lilac's   The garden wraps around the home with a captive appearance. It's intrinsically designed pattern gives the home a sense of comfort, swaddled in a maze of French Lilac. As green hedges form accompanying the Lilac, coupled by a pattern of evenly spaced feathery Cabbage Rose's. Their delicate and pronounced appearance give such an alluring feel.  Among the maze of French Lilac's sits calculated in presentation, other wondrous flowers and plants. Small and carefully attended to, are planters giving birth to the natural beauty of nature. This garden is everything and nothing all at the same time.  It holds no real meaning but to grasp the attention of curious eyes. The deeper you travel into the maze the more wonders your senses take in. You find things you have never seen before. You find flowers hidden beneath the trooping of sunflowers as they try their best to be the attention of all.  Their longs necks preceding the dista...

 A Servant Heart No more I cannot tell you what shall come of me, I am no god no titan. I bare no vision of my future. I am merely a man, a human. A straggling piece of flesh left by god. A possible scab flicked from his heart. Flung to the surface of earth in either affection or the sheer pleasure to see what can be molded of such.  I speak as any other speaks, from my throat. My tongue, its guide and my lips its companion. I walk as any other, upon my feet that bare toes for balance. I see as any other, from the interpretation of my brain.  I am no different than any other who stands upon this earth. We all carry hearts, minds, and imagination. But few I believe give themselves possession of their heart. Giving it only direction in the name of others. Following with idle eyes and lips that drool with obsession to please.  Groveling for devotion though they give none to themselves. Lingering in the shadows peering with feeble hands as they call out for d...

Do you Live on Exacts?  Today I had a thought, something that really struck my thinking. We are constantly in the vortex of what we think should happen. We often disappoint ourselves because things did not go our way or were somehow taken from us.  We look to things in the world as exacts. We see colors right, we see blue or white. We know one hundred percent what color they are. We see a building, we know it is a building. We pick up a book, we know there is a beginning and an end.  There are boundless exacts in our world, in the physical world that is. But there are no exacts in our lives, in our actions, in the daily process of every second. We can plan way ahead, we can take every precaution possible. To gain the results we want.  But no matter what we do, we may not get the exact results. We often place the expectation of ourselves and others as exacts. We often set ourselves up for constant disappointment and failure. Failure in the sense that we d...

 What is Your Why? Before you begin on a journey of discovery, before you start down the path of your heart. Ask, what is your reason for such an attempt? Why step into the passion of your heart? What do you want from it? Glory? Fame? Wealth? Freedom? Health? Love? All the above?   These are questions I believe all should ask themselves before they leap from their edge and spread their wings. For one needs a destination and that destination is the why. Without a why, you are surely to fly above the clouds only to end up falling, crashing to earth in a blaze of exhaustion.   I am not saying you shall fly forever the moment you find your why. For there may be many why's you find before you find the one that holds to you. The one that truly sparks you to start and never stop. I have fallen many times from my why's before ever landing on the one that has kept me going.   I have risen as a phoenix many a times. I have watched my wings crumble beneath ...

 Life Is Life is, a beautiful sunset. Life is a sunrise cresting over an ebbing tide. Flooding the once hidden sands to be seen by our delicate eyes. Life is waking with a smile, finding reason to rise even during the storms. Life is a gift, and we must spend it, share it wisely.  Life is our only life, life is the silent moments with those we love. The moments we jump into puddles of laughter and wet our souls with a loving appetite. Life is our beating heart, the blood rushing through our veins without a thought.  Life is, complicated, but only if you make it so. Life is, do able, but only if you work it to be. Life is an opportunity, one against ten to the two-million-six-hundred and eighty-five-thousandth power. That is a chance of almost zero.  Life is, a miracle, a chance to be what no other creature can be, you, and what ever dreams you wish to build. Life is, creativity, creating yourself: learning, trying, doing, failing, and getting back up. Lif...

Facing The Ghosts  The breeze on this summers eve is delightful. The moon crests just at the edge of my eyes. Reflecting off the tears of clouds as I stand at the end of the pier. I listen to the trickling of rain as it batters the wood framing of the pier.  The rain brings no cold chill as the air comforts the falling droplets with warmth upon their decent. Everything is perfect, the voice of nature warms my heart. Much as been cumbersome these past days, I stand here in my suit from a days work. An expensive suit I might add. Most would find it foolish to stand beneath the rain near the salted waters. "It will only ruin the suit" they would say.  But as my days have grown so have I. Returning from the war and trying to assimilate back into the world, has not been easy. Europe was hell and Germany was giving us no moment of breath. Many of my friends died before my eyes.  For much of my time home, everything crashed upon me like a tidal wave. Much like...

A Cancer is No End  I'm cuffed, tied to reality. I am held to a strict limit of ability, today, that limit has been reached. Though I have no say in what happens next, I will not have idle hands nor an idle heart. I will be the stone from which you can stand on. Allowing a solid foundation, for I want you not to fall to the misery that has come forward. This tragedy is not the end, unless you wish it do be. Much more is to come, but only if you fight, if we fight. If we take in our breathes as if they are our last and charge. Taking aim at life and allowing the growing of flowers. Creating a theme of faith and turning it to reality. Bringing forth good fortune to the mind and casting our the filth that wishes to cloud you. I can only image the fear that is tempted your heart now. Crooked like branches from a wild tree. Springing from the belly of doubt as they rise from your soul. Slowly constricting your hope. But this will not be, for we will prune, cut, severe, era...

I Found The Devil in My Heart I have death on my mind, as I am sure many do; but why? Why do some of us adhere to the feeling of death more than others? Death seems to follow me like a sour taste upon my tongue. I feel it, taste and I can't ignore it. I have no true desire to call upon death early. Nor do I wish it to find anyone I love. But there are those moment, when a cloud sinks upon my chest and I feel heavy. That is when death is most apparent, most prominent in my eyes. Its quiet voice, softly stranding along the angles of my heart. Caressing with a strange comfort of peace, asking me to walk with it. A couple years ago, I would have listened. I would have poured us drinks and conversed till everything felt miserable and useless. Till death sounded like an answer for everything. We are all going to die, so what is the point in going on? Many times I would ask death that question. But I would get no answer back, only a lull of silence and a grin upon death...