A Poem for Adrian de Sarkozy

[yopplwasupxxx 5946]

@Icarnus

 

“To Adrian, My Friend and One of the Greatest Men in Our Day,

 

Years pass by, kept ahold by wonder

Yet blunder after blunder I sat asunder

“Why the thunder of the claps of gods,

Who chant peace yet hold the spears of war?”

Many, the blind, they only nod, made to lawd

What jars the far man seeking only truth.

 

Yet in this typhon of intrigue and doubt,

I seem to have clout in the memory of mine,

Of who was my friends and who sought naught

But the advance of their own station.

Blind I was, like a fool in sedation,

Imprisoned by the schemes of false inclination.

 

I saw not what I could once see, and when I could see

I was too late in what could have been.

These venomous fleas, these pleas of change

They arrange in strange cries of lies

And I, who remained afar in the world,

Cold from the realization of the Creator’s own Skies.

 

When I did split that grand divide, yet to confide

And put aside that sign, seeing all damned

In the joyous clanned realm of seldom happiness.

But in the chaos, the mess of cess and cur

I spat on one who did everything I could ask

And showed disrespect instead of tact.

 

You built where I failed, travelled where I could not sail,

And through courage unfailed you assailed

The beast of burden and slew it upon your

Very sword, piercing it through its core.

You soared, and then the cloud of doubt

Vanished in the clarity of lonesome regret.

 

O Adrian, if I could turn back time I could,

But alas, such is the tortured claw of fate.

In the Void you shined and in the world you thrived.

And in the heavens, you will do o so much more.

And let those bards, and righteous sing,

The stories of you,

 

Adrian Leopold de Sarkozy, the Greatest Man of Our Generation.”

 

[Esterlen 4499]

 

2 hours ago, yopplwasupxxx said:

O Adrian, if I could turn back time I could,

 

Frederick Armas ponders over the poem in his Senate office, perplexed by the identity of its mysterious author. He focuses on a particular line, circling the print with an inked quill. The Harrenite struggles to put a name to the words – though they resonate strongly, eerily familiar in his mind. Was this a memory from a past life? He thought back to the war-time years, bloodied and treacherous and horrifying as they were. As a young idealist, the fifty-year old solicitor had fought in the armies of a rebel lord, whose Whiggish cause for the rights and liberties of man he had since made his life’s work...

[BenevolentManacles 2232]

John sighs upon the poem, squinting his eyes half pensively, and half in frustration. He recalls his father’s love for poetry. The now aging knight buries his face in his hands.

[LithiumSedai 5750]

“A failed rebel field commander whose ragtag bands of armed peasants could not score any victories even with Elfen backing; a pretend-ruler who based his right on a Saint’s hour’s worth of squatting in the palace with a rally of ten half-men; a brat who threatened Helena with nonhuman-backed genocide once driven out of the city by a token Alstion warband; a cutthroat whose hands were stained by the blood of a thousand Lorrainian townsfolk; a snake who conspired to murder his liege and tarnish his legitimate lineage so he might rule over Man as Lord-Protector, and whose plots extend to this day, for through inexplicable sky-daemon sorcery his son will be Emperor one day – though the vassals rejected his rule. Truly, the greatest man of our generation.” An old Renatian spits on the usurper’s legacy.

[lev 627]

“Adrian, oh Adrian! Wherefore art thou Adrian?!” 

[bumblefina 2766]

A woman hears a bard pluck out the poem in a quiet tavern. She comments idly to her companion, “He was alright. Not great.. not bad, mind you. Certainly could have been worse.. but not the greatest. People like to talk nice about the dead, forget all the mediocrity of life. That’s fine, but he wasn’t that great. Guess that’s what you get for doing your job correctly these days, songs of praise..” Their conversation then drifts off to something about runes and landscapes.