An Unlikely Poets Musings

A Voice In The Dark

A voice in the dark,
A lonely, sullen sound. It cries.
Whimpers for a guardian, a guide.
I watch from the bay, listen from the cliffs.
The wind whistles into the night, a starless void.
I do not understand the dark, so I clamor, for the light.
Reaching for a hand.
A simple smile greets my efforts.
Lost.
Scrambling on nothingness. The night calls.
To find footing on truth, the smile is naught but a lie.
I lay.
Frozen, but not cold.
As I huddle and clutch at fragments of the sun, grass, flowers.
The stars.
Stars consoled me, when they were not so sinister.
Mocking, ever watchful.
The voice too, ever present.
A lonely, sullen sound. It calls.
I whimper for a guardian, a guide.
The night waits. So I answer, with a simple smile.
Taking the youth of my spirit, the age of my form.
I look into the mirror of my eyes.
Who do I see?
When one looks into the Abyss, what do you do when the Abyss shies away?
So I oblige.
As a voice, in the dark.


((Because the idle musings of a writer might as well go on this forum too I'll add to this as and when))

An Overdue Return

From afar, you were watched. A ravens wing shielded your features.
Those guarded jewels of the night.
Flecks of gold so hidden. Remember once the Starshine, of long grass, tall glasses.
Of promises made.
Promises you have kept. From how ever far I've watched.
Calling again, drawn under the nets of your gaze.
Coins in the ocean, glitters of the truth.
For I will always love those coveted jewels.
They are honest.
A promise kept, one of countless spurned.
A return to a land still torn.
A return, to a soul I see, broken from absences of time.
With a needle and thread, the gaps will be filled.
With patchworks of memories I still hold dear.
From afar, I return. No more a cowards entrance.
Nothing but promises to give and idle talk to spare.
Those flecks of gold, a Starshine in the emptiness of twilight.
Is this enough to satiate time lost?
Is it enough, will you take me?

A War Forlorn

All our visions of sweet tomorrow,
are cracking and fading away.
Hopes of glory are drowned in sorrow,
doubts expel us to yesterday.

Lead your troops with your lust for pride
they will fight so bravely at heart.
Or cast your yoke of vices aside
and keep the land from falling apart.

Do you hear the bannermans call?
Its calling out to one and all.
Who will live and who will fall,
who will walk the golden halls.
Can you hear the angels call?
They are calling out to one and all.
Who is right and who is wrong,
whose side are the Gods really on.

What are the alliances and treaties for?
Whilst pretenders yet look to the sky.
All the trumpets will sound once more,
and victory will be given another try.

The night harvests the lands,
while the invaders reach for their dreams.
The nations are split by false hands
our prizes lost to their schemes.
Into a stream that escapes their eyes,
a fool is he who cannot foresee.

The Hells is what our land will be.

Do you hear the bannermans call?
Its calling out to one and all.
Who will live and who will fall,
who will walk the golden halls.
Can you hear the angels call?
They are calling out to one and all.
Who is right and who is wrong,
whose side are the Gods really on.

How many pretenders can we endure?
The land is bleeding, so not many more.
Who may better the royal sceptre sway?
Questions, questions,
We may live to see at the dawn of the day.

Bliss

She cast stars across the hidden lake
shadowed from the skies
Brilliantly in the twilight
silver tears of life

Fathoms of hidden seas
in pearl black oblivion
I see the treasured light
from the dark deep below me

In silence she reaches out
to pull me

The darkness will cleanse my eyes
and hold me

From shattered silvery shells the dawn
bursts upon my sight
Take from me the gift of morning
paradise of light

Swallowing fragments
of a blinding lambent beauty
gold sequined waters fall
from the skies high above me

In silence she reaches out
to pull me

The darkness will cleanse my eyes
and hold me

The darkness will cleanse my eyes
and hold me

An Adventurers Lament

Let those who sail the Sea bow down;
Let those who walk bow low.
For there is neither peace nor dream
Where the adventurers go.

Let those who sail the Sea bow down;
For they have never seen
The earth-wrack rise against the stars
And ruin blowing keen.

Mortality has mortal eyes.
Let those who walk bow low,
For they are chaff before the blast
Of what they do not know.

The price of sight is risk and dare
Or loss of life and all,
For there is neither peace nor dream
When Toril begins to fall.

And therefore let the others bow
Who neither see nor know;
For they are spared from voyaging
Where us adventurers go.

Tribute To A Bright Soul

People of passion, of mirth,
You have left your souls here now on this earth!
Have we souls in the heavens too,
Double lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of the heavens commune
With the spheres of suns and moons;
With the noise of fountains wondrous,
And the parley of voices thunderous;
With the whisper of heavens' trees
And one another, in soft ease
Seated on Elysium lawns
Browsed by none but Damh's fawns;

So you live up on high,
And then on Toril they live again;
And the souls you left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumbered, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What only strengthens and what can maim.
So you teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though, fled far away.