For the Love of W

The warm wisps of weather winds embrace my body as I stare out on the water. One year ago the wench was worse for wear, causing warned words and silent wickedness. The slam of the wedge door behind me. The wind shut off from my weary body. The window covered with a wire weave, strong and weird. My fists wildly pounded on the wire with an urgency that gripped my mind. To escape, to feel the wind on my face again. But alas, the wickedly weird wire confined me in the room as the wedge and lock held a worried world at bay. The next winter's day, I awoke with a wonder in my mind. Where was I? What was this strange location that held my mind at bay? Where was I? With a click of the wedge in the door, the light flashed pain into my darkened world. With a voice that held discipline and strong words called out my name "Why not come out now. Your blood must be taken." I stood on my weary legs, my back wrecked from the wicked bed I had rested on the night before. I pulled my jeans to my waist and walked out of the room. There the man stood, tall and strong, with the scars of a war still yet to be fought. Yet now I stand with the warm wisps of weather winds warning my body as I stare on the water. A time long ago a war worked words and whet his wickedness. A year ago the Warren Wild’s Wicked World was my war, my world. Now my whims wander to worries of the real world. A year ago I was imprisoned in a world worse for wear, surrounded by wicked and wise women and men wrecking me. Today day I stand by this water as it laps at my feet. The war is over. Victory has been won.This one started as really a celebration of the "W" letter, then turned into something that I have no idea of. Anyone who wants to help me on a title, feel free to suggest. :) Written March 3rd, 2002 © on Mar 02 2002 03:19 PM PST   10 • 0