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  1. #46
    Registered User Alassė's Avatar
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    shall i put my poem about the Hutmoors on here anyway?

  2. #47
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    Yes, please do.

  3. #48
    Registered User Alassė's Avatar
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    ok here you go though most people will probably have seen it in tips 4 writers

    Lament

    Desolate beauty rides wild and free,
    On branch tops swaying high.
    The wind does cry of love now lost
    From days which have gone by.

    Fair people dwelt within the Light
    The Speech born pure inside
    High Lore and knowledge they did gain
    And realm did justly guide

    One from the South arrived and bid
    His Gift for them to teach
    They offered freely all they knew
    And quickly did he seek

    Their trusting gaze upon him set
    They noticed not desire
    Few could guess at his intent
    Lying eyes did hide

    Talent rose long since denied
    Their willing hands did lend
    Mastery in binding left
    His life blood he did bend

    The radiant immortals with sadness fled
    Binding forever formed
    The Gates now barred another
    Though pain was his reward

    Cruel rule upon the land did steal
    As shadow unseen, night
    Light extinguished at the wick
    Bright Darkness wrapped mankind

    The last despair of man did form
    Alliance through their race
    To rid high throne of endless foe
    Thus Light restored to place

    They gathered on the fields of green
    An army of the Light
    Their freedom, to regain
    Or die one final fight

    Horses stand as rampant tall
    Their hooves which beat the sky
    Proud hearts resolved upon the sight
    Go fearlessly to die

    Cries that ring of fury strong
    Caused weeping from the land
    It mourns the dead and wandering souls
    Felled by pitiless hands

    So eyes that stare
    And hearts which fade
    Lie broken by this strife

    Remember all for eternity long
    The greed which broke the chains
    Now death refused
    And life denied
    Pure splendour now is slain.

    My cuts run deep
    My wounds unhealed
    Only time can mend me now
    Leave me to grieve the departed souls
    And guide them to the stars.


    Alassė

  4. #49
    it is soo gorgeous isn't it?!

  5. #50
    Registered User Alassė's Avatar
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    thankyou

  6. #51
    my pleasure Alasse

    from my mouth only the truth shall speak, yet trickery may lie within
    heard that somewhere as well

  7. #52
    Registered User Alassė's Avatar
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    ooo, i like that

  8. #53
    dont ask me where it came from, i read too much for my own good!

  9. #54
    Registered User Alassė's Avatar
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    no, no-one can read too much for their own good

    or can they??

  10. #55
    hmmm *ponders question*
    it isn't very good, but would you like to read the alphabet story i had to write for english?

  11. #56
    Silver Queen Celebriän's Avatar
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    yes! i'm really intrigued bythe idea of an alphabet story!

  12. #57
    Registered User Alassė's Avatar
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    yes, yes, yes, yes, yes PLEASE

  13. #58
    okay, but i am not promising anything!

    Alone. Bursts of breath dissipating into the air, like wisps of smoke from a single candle; slowly burning into oblivion. Craftily climbing creepers adorn the roughly bricked walls; into a net of brown, bare and scratched, dying from ignorance and lack of light. Drawing up the sword with great ease and yet great care, the cloaked figure glared upon its reflection in the sharply cut blade; cursing the obscenity of the situation that was currently placed upon them; sorely wishing that they were somewhere very far from this dismal place. Even though she, for the cloaked figure was indeed a woman, felt so singular in all this destruction, rising up like blades of grass; stood fleet after fleet of warriors, armed and ready to fight at the sight of just one wave of her sword.
    Five seconds; that was all it took for the dismal female to notice the vast armies of dog-soldiers that were advancing towards her; pacing; three steps for just one second, trampling down aything that came to pass in their way. Great hunks of metal protruded form their hands, and encasing their melted skins stood three inches of heavy iron, unbreakable; nevertheless the might of the hand that hits and upon each shield stood an emblem, a curse, an evil sight to those who followed the Light, such as the somewhat unfortuante woman. Heaven and Hell lay both heralded within this emblem, the emblem of the Iron Tower, where every agent of the Dark was born; and grew up mistrusting and hating those of the Light, the Hulls, once good; now empty cases that obey and fight for their own destruction. In this place grew the creatures of the night, of the winter, of the half of the song that was stolen from those pure by the worst Hull among the dreariest imagination, Sharma, the Nameless One, for he cast off his name to escape death, and in return grew greedy and envied those who died, for his life was that of torture, inescapable pain that he only had himself to blame for. Jaded by this Sharma had created his own worst enemy, prphesised by those from the House of Karn, and this undefeated foe lay beneath the cloak that held the sword, prepared to fight for the whole of Annar, with her mentor and brother either side of her, ready and waiting for the smallest twitch from what remained of Sharma's dog-soldiers, which would signal her advance, with her Gift, her power, a blazing light was made to make up for the dregs of colour lying in the sky; blinding those of the Dark and abetting those of the Light.
    Kismet could have no part in this battle, scrutinized the woman, and as she heard the war cry from the lyre that was held in the hand of a Hull that was leading the misshaped soldiers, she perfected her posture, raised her sword above her head, and bringing it down as fast as the flashes of lightning that now cracked the sky, she charged, her friends and those she had begun to know and love following behind her, she ran, for she had heard the single note, in just one tiny moment, that had been the wrong note, and she had known this to symbolise the moment of weakness that passed through her enemy. Lakes of Bards of Light fell upon the dog-soldiers, slaying the distorted creatures with fast slashes at their neck (their blind spot) and waded through masses of contorted bodies that were strewn around them, still remaining undivided, strong and with no deaths on their side, only a few scratches from the unruly nails that grew from the claws of the slain.
    Moonlight fell gently upon the woman's face as she pushed open the doors that had been badly protected by the disgusting; now all dead, creatures and she slowly slunk into the iron chamber; which narrowed towards an iron throne, upon which was sprawled a figure. Never before had she seen such a strange person, its face was neither old nor young, deep grey eyes protruded from underneath finely cut eyebrows, and as she studied the figure, she walked at a pace as if she was a piece of music, slow and mournful. Opening a door to the left of her, Ardina and Arkan drifted up to her, adjoining her, and upon glancing into Ardina's fey eyes she smiled despite herself, before slowly lifting her gaze to Arkan's immaculate face and piercing blue eyes, causing her heart to skip a beat, regardless of everything that he had done to her, entrapping her in his Ice Palace in Arkan-da. Perfect concetric circles cut into the iron of the throne as the three advanced towards it, during that time, slowly the strange figure that sat on it rose up, reaching high, as if he were a tree.
    Quiet. Raining footsteps were strangely dulled by the shining floor, like a mute owl in the middle of the night. Stopping in unison at merely five paces from the figure Ardina, Maerad (the woman) and Arkan cast off their cloaks and glared upon the figure. The three felt their minds adjoin and began to piece together strings of verses from the tongue of the Elidhu to call back Sharma's name, make him fell every single death that he had caused to occur, make him dread what would come to face him in his afterlife and most importantly to make him human again, nothing more; nothing less.
    Unruly lights cast from the three showered over the neat, sharp walls; reflecting a hundred times over, making Sharma glow as if light had never before touched his face. Vacant expressions flew across all fours faces, and then Sharma started to writhe in agony, twisting and falling to the floor, flames passed across his eyes before he completely collapsed, breathing heavily into the mirrored floor. Winged images flew through Sharma's mind, and in that instant he knew his fate for all he had done, all the Darkness in the world, and that was to be slain, and then be taken into the care of the winged messengers for the Hell that existed beneath them, feeling the pain repeatedly, but not before he had had his chance. X-ray impressions of Sharma ran through Maerad's mind and beneath his steely exterior and his ironclad determination she could see the fear and turmoil within him. Yet she would not change her mind, if she were to do that she would be risking the lives of everyone who had risked theirs for her, which would break her into pieces. Zephyr ran through Maerad's hair as she drew up her sword again, before executing a perfect blow straight through Sharma's midriff and upon withdrawing it released a sigh of relief before turning and walking out with Ardina and Arkan by her side, leaving Sharma slain at the foot of his throne.
    Last edited by peacelily; February 20th, 2006 at 03:08 PM.

  14. #59
    it is really long!!

  15. #60
    Silver Queen Celebriän's Avatar
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    Wow! That is sooooo good Peacelily! I really love the idea that she could face Sharma with Ardina and Arkan. It was so descriptive! beautifully done.

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