Prose
The Selfish Soul
I protect nothing else but ‘I’. My values, my virtues spring forth from my mind. I am selfish. I guard myself and those I value with beloved strictness. The power of the self envelopes me and holds me in the bosom of egoism. I relish the fact I am one of one, none before me, none to come. My soul is cast to the fire of the eternal glow of freedom. It manifests as the living and breathing agent of the sole figure guiding my path. I trust my discernment and my decisions. With selfishness, I am able to rescue the day from all peril. By being an individualist, I know that I am covered not by blood, but by rational self-interest. I stand alone amongst all other subjects and only welcome trade when it is mutual and beneficial to both parties. I am the purveyor of the highest thoughts as they issue from my mind. No two brains are alike and you can’t transplant them. This is the might of a true individual person. The hallmark of all advancements and innovations is the selfish soul. It’s impossible to create anything without first originating in the mind of a lone man or woman. It is the selfish soul that grabs life and colors it with the palette of thinking and truth.
By Skyler Saunders9 months ago in Poets
The Fighter’s Spirit
I bleed bullets and snort bombs. I’m a heat-seeking or laser-guided sidewinder missile with a bad attitude. I eat torpedoes and vomit rockets. I shelter my compatriots with wings of war. My brain is attuned to the mission of no mercy. I sleep with pistols and wake up with rifles. I engage with the enemy and never stop until scorched earth surrounds the place of battle. I pray only to the gun and worship the belch of the cannon. I am a warrior of honor who knows that I never start force, but use it to end war. I am the fighter’s spirit.
By Skyler Saunders9 months ago in Poets
