Friday, December 26, 2008

A poem about our insrtuctor...

Weaponless Hands"



The mighty warrior stood in his land, fearless and calm with weaponless hands.

Shareing the knowledge of ancients you see, with everyday mortals like you and like me.

He had fought many demons throughout his time, which ravaged his body and tortured his mind.

His victories were hailed through far reaching lands, villians feared and cowered at his weaponless hands.

But waiting in his path, in a dark, damp place, was a foe so evil... it had no face.

So small and mynute it could not be spied, the deadliest enemy which could not be denied.

It flew with such grace and such ease on the air, that no one knew it even was there.

It touched our great warrior, he had no defense, the agression it showed... to our minds, made no sense.

It snuffed out his light, but his memory will live, in our hearts and our minds... we will try to forgive!

By Misty Oakley

In memory of Mr. Z

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