There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to out-carol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain... Or so says the legend.

Okay, hello everyone! Originally, I only made a fictionpress account so I could review a friend's works, but I guess I'm starting to use this now. For those voracious fiction readers out there, I apologize in advance, for all I write is poetry. I actually do have some fiction, but my progress on them is pretty inactive - I may decide to continue over summer. But other than that, expect nothing but poetry. I know my syntax and word choice tend to be strange - I try using "poetic license" but that just ends up making things sound awkward. Any comments are appreciated!