Monthly Archives: July 2016

In a Different Life

In a different life
This pain she feels isn’t hers alone.
On this path there’s more than one shadow,
In a different life.
And in that different life, of which she often dreams.
There are hands to help her,
There are arms to hold her,
There is good and joyful news that’s told her.
There is a day without strife.
In that different life.
She stands and stirs from her daydream
Not seeing the faces in between.
The faces of those who wait.
Those who would help, that she does not contemplate.
Then she falls and cries out, to the void she thinks.
And crys again when she opens her eyes,
Surrounded by the faces and the hands of those who try,
And they who love and assist,
Thinking she was alone and not missed,
She never realized that her different life was this.

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It of this Horrid Swarm

Introduction: For those unfamiliar with Magic: the gathering and its lore, the following is a brief retelling of some part of the main events in the Eldrich Moon storyline. Emrakul is the most powerful of three eldrazi titans; the other two have already been destroyed by the Gatewatch. She was worshipped as a god on the world she was previously imprisoned, the inhabitants having forgotten over a period of thousands of years what she actually was. Each of the three titans bend reality and effect the world in certain ways, Emrakul does this by corrupting and mutating all living matter, transforming it into her twisted brood.
I’ve intended this piece to be written from a bards point of view, perhaps a retelling many years after these events have unfolded. The accompanying card images are those from the game that have inspired this poem. I love the game and love the lore. I hope you enjoy this one as it was a fun write. πŸ™‚ 



It of this horrid swarm and the sanity that it does encroach,
From within to burst forth; from a smaller one it grows.
It may be said to be of forgotten gods and their reproach,
Evident of the many in its wake; the corpses below.

The ancient mother brings the Mockery and the Deep-Fiend,

And such as those that ride as one to prey upon the uncorrupted.

The swarm of horror that’s gone before, by any can be seen,
How their forms become confused and then convoluted.
All of sanity, all coherent thought gone.
From the ancient mother nothing is hidden,
Her cultists sing an unrecognizable song
That pulls, and from the blind eternities she’s bidden.

There are few able to fight them, these are the ones who watch.

This swarm of horrors spells the end of this world soon,
But if they succeed and their plans remain unbotched,
The swarm will be defeated and their mother will become imprisoned in the moon.

Note on the artwork: As I was unable to contact the appropriate parties for permission on using the preceeding artworks, I request that Wotc or other owners of said art not to c/d me. πŸ™‚ However should the owners of aforementioned art so desire I will respectfully remove said artwork/images. That being said, I do not believe I have used the card art out of context and am just a fan retelling a story in my own way. πŸ™‚


An Unknown Glow

He did not care to think beyond
The night times star and heralds song.
It called for him a dawn brighter.
Brighter, and more clearly so.
Lighter
He tread on through dusks of unknown glow.
With none but his own inhibitions,
He held himself back with these and his suspicions.
He and day. Between them a wall.
His crippling paranoia standing tall.
There pacing back and forth within the boundary of the shadows,
He cannot sacrifice the weight that keeps him in this land so fallow.

Satellite

From above looking

Down, at the coastline distant.

Listening, watching. 

A Cloudy July


A shadow in the wake of thunder at his door.
Thought of this once, not too often before.
Such heavy clouds preceding storms,
In a season where such thoughts form.
Blackened skies and his heart so lightened,
Of the lightning he’s never been frightened.
With open arms he welcomes such as these,
Where they don’t belong in place of summertime breeze.
Much preferred to the bright summer sun
His heart gladdened by what the grey sky won.
In the peace before the storm he sighs,
And prays for more Julys with grey skies.

My Lady and Her Bear

My lady fair,
And her bear,
Set to sea last winter.
Cold wind blowing,
Neither of them knowing,
Whither the snow had sent her.
But their picnick at sea,
Gave them such glee
As they cared not to question.
They said “Let it blow!
We care not for snow!
Our boat shall be our bastion!”
Everyday watching ocean I,
Gaze upon the horizon wishing to spy,
My lost love, her bear, my lady so fair.
But remembering her joy in departing,
I cannot help imparting,
My joy to you,
Of our love so true,
That she’d never be truly departing.

Note on the artwork:
I do not have written permission to use this piece, as I do not know who the artist is. If you know and/or are able to give me the artists name please let me know in the comments that I may obtain the aforementioned permissions. In the mean time, should the original artist be reading this please don’t c/d me πŸ™‚ plz? 


A Rebellion of WavesΒ 

For waves the sea recedes and rocks that mark its bed,
One sees where sand lets go of another ones dread.
In swelling, falling, crashing, rising, each one tells of the others end.
In vain they argue, a discord of water and sand,
Their frigid spectators, the cliffs behind and the vigilant land.
Such steep demands, the sand tolerates no tribute,
Endlessly dancing in rebellion, they inevitably convolute.