Zmiana sposobu prezentacji
Never spoken, gentle such
Hope divine for want of too much
Still heart, bled dry, stories told
Cold eyes, stare dead, weary, old
Meek of soul, spine is bent
A lifetime of suffering.
His will is spent.
His head is light,
The sun is in his eyes.
His soul still bright
Soaring above it flies.
Tired sunsent, crawls to victory
And the last refuge
calls with all it's mystery
Sleep at last takes over his mind
And spreads a blanket.
Deep and in rhyme.
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We walk together,
this last turn of the black spiral.
My Shadow and I,
And reach our journey's end.
While far away and above life still thrives,
Beneath, what we once were.
Lesser, broken...and faded imprints,
Of what was once living, breathing flame.
Tired legs, refuse to carry us ashore.
And so we fall...with hollow eyes ever gazing upward,
Looking for the wings that made us whole.
Clouds gather,
Shadows rise,
The hour deepens,
Time flies.
Seven Days,
And Seven Hours,
Seven Weeks,
And months of old.
Seven Ages, of an era gone
Come anon, The story goes.
Seven Seconds,
And Seven Fevers...
Risen, broken and now we hold.
Seven times you read this Rhyme.
Seven Minutes to the Midnight Road.
Seven Kings,
And Seven crowns,
Seven gilded thrones of Gold.
Seven goblets, Rich with mead,
And seven skulls for guests to see,
Bleached bone, and holding wine,
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Red seas, by red sand
Falling stars, in my hand,
Purple nights, velvet clouds,
Churning winds, rising howls,
Steps taken, forward, back
Paths chosen, white, black
Destinies burned, lives ended
Chaos crossed, a last sending
Beyond the years,
beyond the tears,
Returning at last,
To your embrace,
Familiar shores,
Familiar plains,
Familiar woes,
Familiar pains.
Fallings stars, in my hand.
Red seas, by red sand.
Dare, I dream...
Of Summers green,
And starlit skies,
A spring seen,
Of winter's snow,
And tears unknown,
Shed in joyous, silent dreams.
Dare I grasp,
A mortal's clasp,
And live, as able,
Those years at last,
To Love and lie,
beneath your smile,
To hold you close, hold you fast.
Dare I seem...
In arrogant blood,
To laugh on thee,
O' Fates unjust,
And will, my will,
Beyond this mist,
And sail a future, hence unseen.
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Cicatrix manet
He is our greatest triumph, the embodimentof the hopes of an entire world, the hero of justice we have been waiting for all this while, the only man who can defeat the Tyrant.
No....not a man.
I can only stare dumbfounded as a saga worthy of being hailed in a thousand songs unfolds before my very eyes. I will describe it, for that is what I do...that is my gift in the scheme of things.
And alas that is all I am good for.
Their muscles coil and harden like cords of liquid metal, I say liquid metal for no steel I know of no matter how bright or true can bend like that, and no rope I know of be it made from the leaves of mimbar or the blades of shuta grass can compare to this strength. Their arms are locked in, two titanic vices wrenching and straining every single moment to bend the other to it’s will. It is like seeing a mountain clash with the endless sea. Their eyes smoulder and glow in the twilight, steam rises from their massive frames. Their own sweat, turned vapour by the very therma within. I cower behind my cover, a rock which might as well be frail vellum for the protection it affords. I can scarcely contain myself from crying out and bolting away from the place like all have done. Every instinct in my body screams to get away. Every fibre of my mind reinforces my will to stay and see this through to the end.
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He was bewitched. Her face echoed around the corner of his vision. Always there but never clear. He could not remember her face. Was that strange? That he could not remember her face?
But he remembered her eyes. Oh those eyes. What fool could forget those eyes. And her lips, and the way she felt when she was close to him. But he cannot remember her face. People gaze at him wondering if he is crazy. He has been wandering the streets for quite a while. Wandering without a destination. Without a purpose. He has been wandering because he can see her, Everytime he loses focus in his sight.
But as soon as he tries to catch a glance and the light of reason shines in his eyes. She is gone.
All that is left. Is a lingering memory. The acknowledgment
of a great loss. Hinting on a great sorrow too yawning and abysmal to be remembered as anything more than a nightmare. It is not important. Although the existence of this void within him is important. For that is one reason among many as to why he must know her face.
For he knows he once loved her.
And he is afraid he loves her still. He remembers the dance
they danced together, under happier skies and days gone by of color. He remember her laughter, and the chimes of bells, and stars endlessly shrouding a night in the wilderness. They were together that night. That he remembers for sure. In the faint currents of the thin air still rest the (...)
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Hear her roar,
in darker dreaming.
On moonshadow nights,
Red starlight gleaming,
Echoing, reeling.
Hear her whisper,
Songs a thousand and one,
Sway, if you can find it,
Rhythm, feeling.
The flow and the current,
Breathing eternal time's tale.
From ages past to rumored future
Her songs stll hail,
Ear to the wind,
You strain to hear,
Faint nothings,
from another year.
Until the stars like dust,
Burst and shimmer,
And the echoes of the wind,
grow louder, clearer.
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Bedded, binded, chained, imprisoned,
Broken, beaten and battered through.
But I am the fire said he,
And fire you cannot contain,
burst out did he upon the stones,
and all the bells verily tolled.
Like spring wind, sun kissed
Blessed twice he rose
And very nearly escaped as a cloud
Yet there was no escape,
Prisons cast in eternity, after all do hold.
Why must you torment me?
Begged he, and slipped
and slithered and fell
like sand through the cracks
Until the shadows cast him back
Like silk, he whispered promises old
And tales of the faerie as he was told
But naught will his powers avail
For Time itself is the oldest tale.
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See I you as enemy mine,
Ancient hatreds of blood and kine,
See I you as enemy old,
Turned asunder with steel cold.
See these arms, and how they clench,
At the air between us with power bent.
A'Curse upon this passage yours,
Until the fated midnight hours.
Spit, I do at your fabled peace,
Your lies, your tales, your deciets.
No peace, between us enemies sworn.
only death and honor, Pride and scorn.
Avenged will be the slight of ancient days.
A deed to be chronicled in saga lays.
Ours shall be the end of ends to come.
When et'all our blades will be done.
Till bright the sun has dimmed at last,
your greatest age has come to pass,
And triumphed, high my lance still stands,
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