Cold and yearning,
The traveler stands,
The Mirror waiting,
As the blizzard rolls on by.
Ever-freezing,
Ever-Fighting,
Blighted whispers wonder wildest whims,
As the lights begin to dim.
We view the tragedies,
He has faced,
With a critical view,
Never concerned for the pain and torment,
That our character faces,
And pass him by,
For the Ever-Freedom,
Of interest catches our eye.
The fate of one such traveler,
Was to be eaten by beasts,
Another caught in a snowdrift,
Another died from lack of heat,
And all we care is ours continue on,
Entertained like the demon's we are,
By the pain of ours.
***
Heartless,
We continue,
Blood as Black as Bone,
The Shadows we are continue watching,
To sate our intellectual thrones.
Ice is bound in Water,
A place The Wind holds a throne,
As our traveler's ancestors,
Walk weary to their homes.
Away from all the worry,
To relax away from fear,
The work Ever-tiring,
Across the Devil Leviathan's bones.
Frozen Hell,
It makes its way from new birth,
A summer tide just beyond,
Worms the weeding grass and roots,
And makes a swamp where life does call it's own,
Among the New growth and year again,
Death does flee from the traveler's own.
***
Brutality to survive,
A need to go away,
That Traveler,
Makes his way from the road of Ice,
To a forest frozen in stone.
Its trees grow tall and rigid,
And shimmers in the sun,
Shines like the newborn babe,
That are the Moon and Sun.
The Pride of this forest,
Are thickets wrapped in sweets,
Food abundance,
A feast for every man's home,
Its all too much,
He cries in tears,
He at last found the land of titans,
Gluttons punished by the men of god's might,
With the Foulest of Weapons,
In a false war of holiness,
The Peace of Death that only the traveler knows.
At last the man has his peace,
The wasteland finally yields,
From Fire to Ice to Grass,
At last,
Something can be redone,
If only he wasn't alone.
"In honor of your world, and the children of men, we claim this world as our own."-Humans
Well...the third poem in a single day...Anyways, since I'm going to be celebrating a special date in a months time, I decided to give you one of the ones I was planning to release, earlier than the specified date. Besides...I'm curious as to what people would think of this anyways, and I wonder if someone will actually figure out the references I'm giving besides the ones to my own earlier poetry, (some of which aren't on this site, but will be soon).
ISA
The traveler stands,
The Mirror waiting,
As the blizzard rolls on by.
Ever-freezing,
Ever-Fighting,
Blighted whispers wonder wildest whims,
As the lights begin to dim.
We view the tragedies,
He has faced,
With a critical view,
Never concerned for the pain and torment,
That our character faces,
And pass him by,
For the Ever-Freedom,
Of interest catches our eye.
The fate of one such traveler,
Was to be eaten by beasts,
Another caught in a snowdrift,
Another died from lack of heat,
And all we care is ours continue on,
Entertained like the demon's we are,
By the pain of ours.
***
Heartless,
We continue,
Blood as Black as Bone,
The Shadows we are continue watching,
To sate our intellectual thrones.
Ice is bound in Water,
A place The Wind holds a throne,
As our traveler's ancestors,
Walk weary to their homes.
Away from all the worry,
To relax away from fear,
The work Ever-tiring,
Across the Devil Leviathan's bones.
Frozen Hell,
It makes its way from new birth,
A summer tide just beyond,
Worms the weeding grass and roots,
And makes a swamp where life does call it's own,
Among the New growth and year again,
Death does flee from the traveler's own.
***
Brutality to survive,
A need to go away,
That Traveler,
Makes his way from the road of Ice,
To a forest frozen in stone.
Its trees grow tall and rigid,
And shimmers in the sun,
Shines like the newborn babe,
That are the Moon and Sun.
The Pride of this forest,
Are thickets wrapped in sweets,
Food abundance,
A feast for every man's home,
Its all too much,
He cries in tears,
He at last found the land of titans,
Gluttons punished by the men of god's might,
With the Foulest of Weapons,
In a false war of holiness,
The Peace of Death that only the traveler knows.
At last the man has his peace,
The wasteland finally yields,
From Fire to Ice to Grass,
At last,
Something can be redone,
If only he wasn't alone.
"In honor of your world, and the children of men, we claim this world as our own."-Humans
Well...the third poem in a single day...Anyways, since I'm going to be celebrating a special date in a months time, I decided to give you one of the ones I was planning to release, earlier than the specified date. Besides...I'm curious as to what people would think of this anyways, and I wonder if someone will actually figure out the references I'm giving besides the ones to my own earlier poetry, (some of which aren't on this site, but will be soon).
ISA
I see you have been busy, Poet En. Your thoughts are enlightening, like cool, peaceful breezes that lift the mind out of darkness--even though there is still some darkness here. Lighten and enlighten yourself!
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