Left unsaid.

Some things in this world are better left unsaid.
The truths in which can only cause pain.
Where Fluffy really went.
The meaning of life.
Why it is some are quiet.

That is a list that can run a mile.
A mile of certain little things,
That are better left unsaid.

Yet sometimes we slip.
We are only human.
Born to make mistakes.
Mistakes about those litte things,
That are better left unsaid.

The said, unsaid, here's a hard one, presaid, resaid..
We are human.
Human's make mistakes, it's nature.
Although nature is a whole new subject.

Simply put, some things are better left unsaid.

I get depressed, or pained, and this is what comes up..

You can walk,
You can talk,
You can know what's coming,
But it hurts no matter what you do,
No matter how hard you try,
No matter what,
It will happen.

A few moments of happiness would be equal to a long time of pain.
It equals out.
That is how life is.

What a wonderful world we live in.

A favorite, Light and Dark.

Is light truly the good of all things, the one bound to forever win?
Is light really the truth through shadowed lies?
Is light not the most chosen path because it is believed to be the good side?
Is light truly the better?

Nuh-uh.

Is dark truly the worse of all thing, the one bound to forever lose?
Is dark really the shadowed lies bent for truth?
Is dark not the least chosen path because it is believed to be the bad side?
Is dark truly the worst?

Nuh-uh.

If you believe the dark is truly worse and if the light is truly better, then you are wrong.
If you believe the light is what shines through the supposedly darkened lies, then you are wrong.
If you believe one path is chosen more than the other, then you are wrong.
If you believe one is worse than the other, you are wrong, for the merely cancel each other out, nothing more.

Mhmm.

Loved, or lost.

This'll be my little outlook on the subjects..

To be loved, is to know you will have someone at your side no matter the circumstances, words said, or anything, to remain there.
Always to be there, never not too, over little matters, or larger matters, always to be there until the end.
Loyalty to the end,
Yes,
Love to the end,
Yes.

To be lost, is to not know what is before you, wrapped in dillusions of who are around you, even then doubting those who love to you.
Forever to be wrapped in dillusions, imaginary friends, problems, trusts, wrapped in which not to be let go.
Never to trust again,
Yes,
Never to live again,
Yes.

This is how it goes, one way or the other, you choose your path, yet not as simply as you can be lead to believe.
By your movements, your motives, you path is made, are you lost or loved? Wrapped in dillusion, and surrounded by true friends?

Time..

Time is amazing in how it is.
It can be the greastest healer, or the strongest foe.
It can seem as slow as a slug working it's way across the pavement, or as fast as that deer darts away when seeing your headlights.
It always works in the most wondrous, forever changing ways.

Yet, with forever changing, how can some say to predict what is to come next?
Those are people who want the newfound glory in our world, money.
Or, people who believe strongly in that as others do to different, multiple things.
Have you ever heard the saying, 'Time is of the essence?'

Those who say it may know what it means.
Or, are they people that have read one too many fortune cookies?
Regardless, listen to it, for it means that time, in itself lasts forever, but your time does not.
Once again, time can be the greatest healer, or strongest foe.

It depends on how you take to it.

My thoughts for some current events, so to say.

It is hard, you know,
To see those around you shattering,
Slowly self destructing,
It pains me,
That it does..

I'll walk, talk and smile through it all,
For if I am not strong, how can they be?
If I shatter, who will help them stand?
If I do not stand, how can they?
If I fall, how will they prevent themselves from doing so?

I'll stand strong for them, and myself,
I am the strength, the key existance,
I am the one they look to, to save them from their troubles,
I am the key that unlocks their minds, from overflowing with pain,
I am the one they ease their pains onto, for I shall stand.

All my life it is going on, I am the key source, the storer of trouble, pain, and suffering.
Everyday it is the same, unchanging,
Everyday it is a different person, wanting the same as the others,
Everyday it is like the one before, never to be changed for the better,
Everyday it is my life like this, times are never to be changing, I am here to be for you.

Rikkan

"I now hold a craving for blood, but his blood is not worthy of my taste."
One single strike, across the right shoulder and through the chest, done with a long, slim blade. Answering the attack would be a rather low pitch call, no, cry of pure pain from an adult male. The man's blood flies into the air, seeming to levitate, to freeze in place as it is shed. These crimson drops of blood reflect in the pale brown eyes of a young male, not even of the adult age of 18, but merely being 16, a little ways off. The poor child's vision blurs by the oncoming tears forming. Another strike, to the left shoulder, slipping across opposite of the other, yet making an uneven X the crossing point being lower than it should, the top being the man's shoulder width. A cry of pain more shaking than the last is heard in reaction to the blade, sobs mixing with the calling of three words, 'Rikkan... Help... Me...' That is all.
"Now, to end your current suffering, dear brother." The man attacking says. His long, ink black hair flares behind him as he makes to the lunge involved with ending the man's life. The lunge falls in rhythm to having the blade sent through the man's heart, al the way until the blade's other edge appears through the man's back, severing his spinal cord, even his heart. With the final strike in which ends the man's life, the man's dark brown, almost black eyes widen to their full capacity, allowing the whites of his eyes well enough seen to contrast..
"Father.. Father.. FATHER!!! NOOOO!!" The boy with pale brown eyes screams, watching his father's death before his eyes, done by his own brother.. He pulls himself forward, placing his hands to his father's shoulders as his brother pulls the blade back, the blade glistening with the rich blood of his father. His hands keep to his father's slacked shoulders in order to not allow the tattered body from falling.
Tears stream along the boy's jawline, and off of his chin, falling, and mixing with his father's blood, he was gone and there was nothing he could do about it..
"How is it that you care about a man who never cared about you?" His brother asks, his ice-like tone reflecting a certain amount of curiosity.
"Father... You... Rave... Brother... How.. How could you?!" The boy says, first softly, broken speech, then strongly, although his spirits shattered. When his speaking comes to be stronger he turns fiercely from his father, allowing his hands to leave his shoulders, the tattered body falling behind him, against the back of his legs, for he was to his knees.
He laughs, coldly so. "That is just like you, Rikkan! This was the dirty end for a dirty man. But for you, dear brother I give a pain in which wil lead to your emotional and physical destruction." With that said, he rests his blade balanced against his tearstained brother's neck, slowly forcing him to rise to his feet.
"You, my dear pathetic brother, will be forced to kill in order to thrive, and suffer immensely with doing so, upon you, this is a curse, to me, it is a gift, enjoy, dear, little brother." He tilts his head forward, his lips barely brushing his brother's neck, parting and slowly allowing two, slim, white fangs to pierce his flesh, working to a certain jugular vein that lies within his neck, causing his brother's pale eyes to widen, yet give no resistance as he weakens. His brother's tears mix with blood that is from his hand, from the attacks.
Slowly, and most efficiently, he drains the blood from his dearest brother, waiting until the right moment to pull back releasing his dark embrace and positions his hand from his brother's jawline, slitting his blade along his wrist and raises his cut wrist to his brother's lips.
"Drink." He places his bleeding wrist firmly to his brother's lips now, dropping his sword and holding to the back of his neck, forcing his mouth open, forcing the blood to travel into his mouth, forcing the amount to grow steadily within his brother's mouth. His brother's tears comes to mix with the unaccepted blood as he waits, patiently so.
"Drink, or I die, little brother."
Tears stream along Rikkan's jawline as he slowly begins to accept his brother's blood, which was his own circulated through his system, even though he killed his father, he couldn't let his older brother die.
After a few, long treacherous moments pass with him accepting his brother's blood, the wrist is pulled back and he falls slack, immediately loosing his consciousness.
"So easy you are, dear brother. When you awaken, you will be as I am. Now, won't that be fun for you, my dear little brother?"