tcs_tonsils_ 2829 Share Posted August 22, 2022 Selection of Poetry - Vol. 176th of Msitza ag Dargund, 439 E.S. Untitled Black crow flies on wearied wing, Yearning for hearth and home. Inbetwixt the fight and fray, The golden soldier finds hope. Northward fly, O’ bazen bird, Let now your sunken head rest, When yon tender touch met feeble hands, Amass into peaceful tranquility. Savagery - Extended You twist the words I use into a weapon to wield against me. Then use that morphed verbal dagger To murder my hopes and dreams. Tell me what path I have chosen wrong, What words have offended you so? That you would attack with such brutality, What lyrics have brought you to hostility? You take that which I birth with ink, Then mangle it to fit your own dilemma. That which was pure in it’s own right, Has not been defiled, used that unintended. Vile and cruel,deformation of language past. The elegant and beautiful words, Woven in such delicate array, Now smashed beyond the mold. What lies in Battle is Written by the Victor Memories of old Two visions unfold, Two stories unrolled. Two tales untold. See terrors foretold, All hope annulled Our victory sold. We go cold. Or Victory bold The glorious behold All the gold To be extolled. The winners controlled The entire mold. Influenced and cajoled One story told. This to then uphold. One story is told. One story is unrolled. One story is told. Gone - 839 E.S. Rewrite It dipped into the depths, this last light of mine. Entrenched in the darkness, I waste away. I shout, but the noise is consumed, Drowned by the splashing of waves on the rocks. Nothing remains, for all shall fall into ruin. And just as the sun disappears behind the sea, So too shall you disappear under the earth. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich, KML 5 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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