Knights Reborn

I would like to share with you all that I plan on giving deep messages or expressions of writing to make you all think, not about anything inparticular, just to reach into your souls and find out what's inside. My first piece is called 5-aclock shadow.
The man escaped the dark shadows of his past at the moment moment he felt the twitch of his unveloping eyes. It happened again; out of the dark cave for which his 6:30 alarm clock pull him out of came distant, terrible strands of his past. The woman, the boy, and their killer. At one point in time... the man could wear a suite and call this something that lawyers and doctors can nod at. Now he knew better. The scraps of smiles and picture-taking and barbecues was burned to a crisp. All that remained were ashes, sprinkled around his mind, to decorate his graveyard of memories. You cant call that "Post-Traumatic-Stress disorder". You can call it the one result you get when a man brutally steals everything that you went to church for, got a degree for, fought in a war for, heh heh, even shaved for in the morning. Now there's no need, now the man lets the hairs thrive on his face, on this particular morning at 6:30 am, he stared at the mirror and that mirror eagerly showed him the 5-aclock shadow that took root on his face. He then realized their was one thing left to do, that killer is still out there and needs to be put to Justice, justice, that's a word he cared for... he picked up his jagged razor and started to shave.

Hope you guys enjoyed the piece!

Interesting.

Thx

I now have another new piece. I think Jato will like this one.
Title: The shrouded enemy...

Okiri Namoto was longing for a purpose his whole life. No older than 4 years of age, the child that would be named one of the unstoppable warriors of Japan, watched helplessly as his father was desperatley deflecting every knife that rained upon his katana. He fought like a true dragon of the Namoto clan, letting his armor welcome every slash and then spew a ravenous flame from the heart of his resilience, spreading wildly in hot persiut of his attackers weak spots. That fire died quickly. At 42 earths circles around the sun, Okiri's father was out of his prime, every blow was stronger against him, every dodge was lacking tenacity, and his armor was more cumbersome. By no means was this warrior unfit to fight. But against 8 cloaked assasins he faltered, the difference of sweat and blood were unexistant. Before his last breath clawed its way out of his mouth, he whispered to his son "may the sun rise early for you my son, so as to kill these murderors when the night reigns, send their heads straight into your sword, so they may stand trial to the only judge they deserve." Okiri remebers that day with the aid of his fathers sword, held at his belt at all times. He never sharpended it, every scratch and flaw on the sword emboldened his lust for vengence. He promised his father he would end the lives of every last one of his killers. And he never used it, letting the dust settle on the blade in order to magnify the terrible pain he would give to his sworn enemies.

As a samurai today, he serves his clan to the dojo, proudly wearing his kabuta every sunrise. When he was free of his services for a time, he walked around the villages and asked the peasants of any cloaked killers that stalk the night. One word rised from their silence, Ninjas. Okiri had heard many stories of said warriors, or wizards, assasins, whatever word in his language that defined his fathers killers. He had been told stories warning him never to look at a ninjas eyes, for you instantly become blind forever, or that ninjas can disappear as will to avoid your vengence. To Namoto, these were scraps of food to feed children as the moon rose high, so they may not go hungry as they sleep. He was a man of 27 years and refused to believe these myths. These were cowardice murderors that must be stopped. And so his search continued... awaiting a black-clothed assasin to find him. As it turned out, he did get that oppurtunity.

Walking along a forest on a routine patrol of his clan's territory. A shadow in the shape of a skinny man peered to his eyes. He drew his fathers sword and called out "Show yourself demon of the forest, or my blade will draw a much deeper cut!" Out of no where, a fog of mist filled his eyesight. But his ears were keen... the mysterious small footsteps charged hastily preparing for a backstab no doubt. Immediatley, Okiri's prowess with the katana was waking the forest with clangs of steel on steel. Suprisingly, the masked assasin carried a katana as well, considering most assasins wield consilable weaponry. The tidal wave of quick slashes from the enemies sword were deflected effortlessly by Namotos parries. For every one strike attempted by this fighter, two threatened to slay him. The cloaked warrior was quickly disarmed. The victor held his sword stright and steady, preparing for his cerimonial decapitation when the warri... boy revealed his face. He looked to be 15 years of age, hardly competetion for a fully trained samurai such as Namoto. The boy shivered with fear as his words slowly made its way to Okiri's ears: "Please sir, spare me! Im but a child, killing me would cut deeper to your honor than any strike against my head!" Reluctantly, Okiri thrusted his sword back into its home which he called a scabbard. "Where is your parents boy?" The adult demanded. "Please sir! My name is Takio." the boy requested. After a long exchange of shivering whispers and demanding questions, Okiri delivered the boy to his father. Two steps out of their door, the old man replied "Thank you for sparring my boy." As the humbled samurai turned around to accept the mans gratitude, he felt a terrible echo in his mind, shattering all his sympathy for this family. The old man wore a tattoo that was etched into Namoto's anger and memory 23 years ago...

Not an ounce of mercy wieghed down his charge, he plunged his fathers sword deep into the old mans heart, the oak walls and straw decor that once brightend this cottage were now stained with the old blood, creating a canvas of red painted by Okiri's silver brush. The last look of the old ninjas eyes shouted suprise and regret, this old man now remembers the look on Namotos face when he left his father in a pool of blood. Namoto quicky drew his blade out of the old man's heart. The boy he spared before looked at him with hatred but just stood there the way Namoto stood when he saw his father die. Terror and anger sparked the boy's face. Suddenly, the murderous samurai ran as far away as possible from the blood-infested cottage. However, this time he rain with the weight of 10 dragons slowing him down. This weight didnt appear from sympathy or rage, but of guilt...

He searched for 23 years of his life for his fathers killers, and now that he killed one of them, his fathers request was showing. "Let the night reign as your sword judges them," he commanded. All this time, Okiri wished for justice only to repeat the evil that defined his life: he snuck up, furiously murdered an old man, and his son was watching. The rage and anger was most likley pumping that young man's vengful thoughts on how to kill Okiri as he comtiplated his guilt. The cycle that he tryed to end with honor has only restarted its chain of vedetta. Now Namoto questioned who was the samurai? And who was the ninja?

Thanks for reading!

Philosopher wrote: I think Jato will like this one. :)

woo dying stuff \o/ although ill be honest i dont venture into this section of the forums often

*Hit's like button*

LOL Yoshimatsu, but im a little confused

Philosopher wrote:LOL Yoshimatsu, but im a little confused

Pretty much for this whole thread.

You know I saw your writing and was inspired to make my own Yoshi, but right now I still dont know if you like my piece or not lol

Translation: I like it!!!

To the first part, thank you!

Lol no problem and thank you Yoshi

New piece: Descisions...

You allow many things,
You allow yourself to hear but not listen,
You allow yourself to feel but not care,
You allow yourself to see but not visualize,
You allow yourself to walk but not stand,
You allow yourself to speak but not discuss,
You allow yourself to read but not learn,

Is this what it means to be yourself...
or allow yourself to be?

Thx guys I hoped you liked this one

Alright well guys i think im done for now with making these mainly because im just not in the mood at the moment, this is a shout-out to site-admins, ITS COOL IF YOU LOCK IT.

But thx for reading what i had to share

slip this in before anything happens, but I really like this topic.

Thx dude, maybe ill keep writing in the future just not right now.

love this story man

,oh thx chilled but I thought this topic would be locked by now 0-0
Our haven't written here in almost 2 months lol