**a Seed Of Awarrior Poet..Updated One Poem by TaMaRa HaNaRiNg ,(((( PaLeSTiNe))))FreedOm Flottila .

(A prose which was written few months back)
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(for some of my friends whom I lost sadly today) .....
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for those whom are SO holy in my mind,


I steal from my thoughts few thoughts,

for whom called warriors and poets....

those who create

from the end start, from the failure success..

whom they have so odd stories, filled by

pain and long ways of trials,

their aching souls witnessed many traps...

they never stop despite the stabs


their success is the journey... the taste

of that rest after

walking the long hectic ways..the rest of the

bleeding feet..the taste of

admireres whom with them so long
differ...



the demolishing which build in them

a tower.

the pure feeling which born from a

suffer,

the deep vision, the wisdom which heal and recover


Warriors and poets.. do talk while

they walk..they do not sit or rest,

chairs are created for the guests but not for the

hosts..



.. that day found my self standing again and alone,

that moment only i felt again free..so

happy i was

soaring and realized that i'm a seed of a

warrior..perhaps i'm a seed of a poet

I walked my long way again once again to

start again, at the end i sang for the

freedom...my freedom from that

chair.. it was a few

moments after my success

which can be considered as a failure by

others

that day....
one girl said to me..you are a fish and have been thrown to sea

but that sea rejected me when discovered that i'm not a fish but another sea

what a beauty, what a greatness when you belong to you, when no one own you, when your soul stay always soaring when your soul stay free

free..free..free