I'm From Home

I'm from latitude 55 degrees and longitude -125 degrees.
I've lived here my entire life,
Seen advertisements about my home on TV,
And heard family and friends talk about it.
I'm from a place jammed with rumors.
Our parks resembled paradise,
Our lakes and rivers flowed with gold,
Our cities packed with culture,
And our mountains overflowed with life.
I'm from epic tales and glorious times,
Where an entire nation came together and became,
Friends, lovers, and family,
Hosting the games of the decade,
Undergoing harrowing challenges,
And emerging victorious with 14 gold.

I'm from BBC.

Fifteen Hearts

My knuckles,
So scraped,
So bloody.
My body was specked with dirt from a field too muddy.
None shall pass or knock through me,
While I draw breath I refuse to flee.
Face me if you can,
But you cannot win while I still stand.
Striped arms go up, now the moment's tense,
The thumping in my chest felt neither dull nor dense.
With a wave of a hand and cry of a whistle,
Fifteen brothers shot forward like missiles.
A band of wolves charged with our stolen pride,
Our chain of fifteen links bound them on all sides.
With nowhere to run they stormed our line,
The ball-carrier's eyes were locked straight into mine.
I invited him in,
I dared him to approach,
I'll break this lone wolf and make proud my strong coach.
Before we crashed he shot a mean look,
The collision was huge but not a step back I took.
With a stroke of luck and sleight of hand,
The ball was dropped and roamed free on the land.
I lunged at the ball and hugged it close to my heart,
Tore down the field while wolves had me marked,
A lightning quick step and roll to the side,
I burst through their pack and shifted the tide.
My race down the field was not over yet,
One more wolf stood and made sure that we met.
I'm not afraid because if i should fall,
Fourteen more hearts will come to my call.

A Certain Calm

There is a time when the water is fragile,
The waves so delicate,
They dared not make a sound.
In this serene time of sorrow,
There exists a calm.
It's in this certain calm that,
The sun bleeds away from the sky,
Staining pink the once silver clouds,
Casting wraith-like shadows,
Eclipsing all but the last speck of light,
Choking life out of the vivacious,
Weighs down on your heart,
And waits as all happiness effervesces from the world.
It's the calm that,
Invites the sinful,
Draws the corrupt,
Attracts the malicious,
And the surreal.
The villainous silhouettes of the trees,
Shines out like beacons,
Calling for twilight dwellers,
And predators of the night.
The day is near an end,
And night is drawing near.
It's time to enter a realm,
Littered with bits of ancient magic,
Where seconds seem endless,
Where the unknown is certain,
And where danger is the only safe,
A very different world follows,
This certain type of calm.