Tempestuous Flower.

Who is she that stirs up my thoughts and feelings in this whirlwind called confusion.

Is she an enchantress, a spell caster of some sorts.

If so she succeeded in trapping my mind in utter daze.

What is this I feel ?, I am so in the zone of question marks.

Am I really in love or an average happy go lucky fool drunk with the liquor called infatuation.

Whichever it may be I admit the fact that I have been reeled in by her wits and charms hook, line and sinker.

The worm that twists and wriggles around her sleek little finger.

I walk through my fantasy garden and she is its crown oh what a prize in this my delusion of grandeur.

Can I muster the will to pluck from the roots this tempestuous flower ?

Choose, Not be Chosen For.

A simple me has a unique definition or path, the shape of my destiny.

Yet others may not find it fitting and claim to have a brighter vision beyond what I can see.

It’s all well and good but this is my life-given task.

To stick to what others desire,I’d be creating a path of false wants and ambitions and me as its forger wearing a mask.

If my destiny is to be shaped, I must be true to what I want and nothing more.

Straying off that would lead to a destiny filled with mayhem and horror.

Like oil and water, my ideals and those of others cannot co-exist.

I’ll race through the path I believe in, no matter what alternatives on which others insist.

To others like and unlike me, I utter this onto you and nothing more,

Choose thy path for thine own and not be chosen for.