This is a collection of poetry and prose. Both short poetry (+Haiku) and longer pieces are included in this book. In ancient Greek mythology it is said that ichor is the fluid that runs through the veins of the gods and those who are said to be immortal. This book is dedicated to the ancient soul- always rising from the grave to step into the next vessel. We travel a long road of lessons, and I am not just talking about the impermanence of our physical body, I am talking about our consciousness on its own. So many beautiful things are stored and locked away inside the core of our being. We often define our existence by what the simple physical eyes see- but we are so much more than who we see inside the mirror. This world has always had a hand in how we see ourselves. “We see therefore we are”, is how we often feel going through our days. We are shown how imperfect we are and how we must focus on how others see us, but we neglect how we see ourselves and this is where we go wrong. Strength does not run the pack of sheep that the elite is so forcefully trying to make of us. Our soul is the ichor that drives us. We are the immortal ones once we dare to reflect on who we truly are. Our temporary human experience is a feast of lessons to the soul that never dies. All of us eat what is put on our plates- and that is why I believe we are put through reincarnation. It would be an impossible task to eat everything in one go as there is too much for our consciousness to swallow inside the short span of one lifetime. The soul will eat and digest its lessons until we are no longer hungry for a physical existence. Until we are ready to embrace that the physical world is no longer a necessary place for us to be. We are free to determine what the outcome is of each lifetime. I believe we subconsciously know what is left on our plates to still digest into the core of our being. Spend this lifetime as you please. It is but a page inside the book of our existence. However, would it not be delightful to look back to that one page with love? Embrace your own madness. Embrace yourself, and the whole world will step aside in awe and embrace you in turn. The world will always make room for those who are unafraid to exist fully and unapologetically, and my god, you are worthy of living a life like that. Never step down for what the world appears to want from you as a collective. You are the collective. Take what you need to grow. These tools are always available within you. I firmly believe that death is not the solution to life’s agony. It should not be romanticised that we run from life into death. If you believe in the soul, then you may agree that the hurt we do not heal from in this lifetime, is a hurt that may carry on into our next. I deeply honour the idea of healing. It may look ugly. It may look like the definition of insanity. But what is more insane than tucking the ghosts away into the deepest pits of the soul, where they will roam and eat away at our being? Let them have a voice. Let them flee from their chambers. Sit with them. Let them write with you. Paint with you. Hurt with you. And someday, heal with you. Perhaps we always returned. We, the old­est of these, whose bones were forged in old wars by older gods. We, the keepers of beauty and sorrow and art. We, the crea­tors, the dreamers, the poets. Perhaps we always came back. Not to differ­ent lives, but to the same. Perhaps we came back with our souls carved a little deeper each time, able to love and rage and lose a bit more profoundly. Perhaps we'd find each other there, speak of poets from days gone by, and perhaps we'd begin to create again. Mira Hadlow, author of 'As Muses Burn '