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A Selection of Poetry from Borris Iver Kortrevich - Vol. 25&26


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Selection of Poetry - Volumes Twenty-Five and Twenty-Six

On this 11th of JULA AG PIOV, 469 E.S.

 


 

Worm

 

You are vile, devilish and arrogant.
You gawk at real truth,
Before twisting and perverting,
That which is pure.

 

You are a snake,
You are spineless and witful.
There is only deception and lust
Wrapped beneath your pitiful state.

 

You are a Worm, 
Wiggling, writhing
Slinking in the night,
Desperately trying to flee.

 

You are a maggot,
Parasitic in nature.
Feeding off the weak,
Harvesting the fear.

 

They were mere peasants in your eyes,
Deserving not of higher callings,
But only living that of utilization,
The usings of your own accord.

 

And how were they to resist?
For what Will had they to fight such evil?
You had exploited them, weakened them,
You had used, abused, then loosed them.

 

You are sick, corrupting everything around you.
Yet you are a dog, licking the vomit he spits,
You shall not change,
For goodness is not in your nature. 

 

You are a Snake.
You are a Worm.
You are a Maggot.
Woe to You.

 


 

Too Long

 

Where have you gone? 
The daylight fades.
All around me mists pursue,
Till they dance in circles near my form.

 

My muscles grow taut, 
My head wearied,
Pain has sought to consume me.

 

I cannot remember your face,
Nor visualize the beauty of your features.
Your smile is but a vague outline,
Its view held but barely out of my sight.

 

There is but a glow now,
The lids of my eyes weigh,
Causing me to squint.

 

Nor can I revisit the smoothness of your skin,
Hear the sound of your voice,
Know the smell of your hair,
Or remember the taste of your lips.

 

It has been too long,
Semblance of my memory of you,
Runs thin, vague.

 

How does one reconcile such grief?
It is almost overwhelming,
For when I remember,
Then simply forget more.

 

 


 

Heavy as Concrete

 

Wrought from weighty woes that linger and mar,
The menacing mass of malice binds with apar
The compound of crepitude created in cascades,
Molding and melding heavy as concrete encrades.

 

The manace of mire materializes, a crust
Rounding oppressive obloquy until dust
The opaquing overgrowth of grief congeals 
An onerous ostentation of monstrous appeal.

 

Constructs of corroded consequence occur
The combination of questionable qualites deter
Anxiety and agony arise ever strong,
Furthered through fatuous fanciful flongs.

 

The trappings of tethering tribulations
Are amalgamated disatisfactions
Ominousness and oppression outlives,
Catastrophic consequences drive like sieves.

 

The troubled immensity of thoughtfouls aloft
Striking through thoughtless whims of what is oft
Fisticuffs of fear and fury percieves
The thunderous murmuring of humankind's acheive.

 

In cohesive compound, a collony of fault
Designed and devised, heavy as concrete assaults;
Inurening life and living with depth,
Failure of fortitude e'er looms in a wepth.

 


 

Pitiful

 

Dim is the light of the oppressed,
Their hardships beyond what they can digest.


Forced to teeter on the edge of poverty,
Their wealth their only hope of stability.

 

The haggard look on their despoiled faces,
Their passions have been so cruelly effaced.


Their futures foreclosed, their hopes denied,
Endured with silent, hopeless pride.

 

The beleaguered must bare the sorrowful grunt.
Their dreams forever far beyond their front.


Abandoned and bereft, lacking all reprieve,
Alas, their lot can only be grieve.

 

Swept up in the tumult of distress,
Desperate to reverse their direness.


True freedom remains desperately out of reach,
A passing whim for their pitiful speech.

 


 

Teardrops like rain

[An Epic-Like Poem]

 

She looked upon it, the thing that rested upon the ground.
It had a red uniform, buttons arranged neatly upon the chest and collar.
Yet the uniform was not actually red, but rather the color had stained the white underneath.
The blood had soaked it, ruined it. Yet, in a sense, it was just as beautiful as before.

 

Her eyes were dry, dull, and looking upon that thing.
She had no tears for all that could come had already fallen, draining just moments prior.
The streaks of water had evaporated in the cool air, leaving a crust upon that pale skin.
Her face had gone numb, even as emotional torment twisted inside of her.

 

It had fallen some time during the battle, though through their separation, she could not know when.
When the steel had fallen from Koreni hands, their members fearing their inability to win,
And from this they knelt, pleading for mercy, for them not to become like their brethren who had fallen.
It was only them that she could see its form, motionless upon the crimson stained dirt.

 

She had pleaded to Uri as her heavy footfalls carried her body across the field. 
Even as she approached the lifeless thing, she whispered and prayed.
They were not the regular drawn out prayers of the Glendesh, but repeating words.
She spoke in hushed tones, to anyone near her it would almost sound like mumbling. 

 

“Don’t let him die. Don’t let him die. Don’t let him die. Don’t let him die.” 
The words continued upon her lips, yet with every word, the hope in her sank.
Though, even as she made it to the figure, she did not pause her ramblings.
It did not move. It did not even twitch. The form stayed motionless on mud and grass.

 

His pale face was no older than thirty, dark brown hair still slicked back.
It had been mixed with the grim of the battlefield, yet somehow held its shine. 
Upon his cheeks was a large gash where an enemy's sword had found its mark.
Blood pooled near his nose before flowing down his lip.

 

Nor fell to her knees, the earth sinking under the new weight resting upon it.
She had stopped mumbling, falling silent as her eyes fell to his.
There was no spark in its eyes, that greenish wonder had left,
Leaving an empty shell, something she regarded with disgust. 

 

It was not Londen, for Londen had escaped from this thing the moment darkness fell.
Yet she regarded the man she once knew, despite the vessel he his flesh had now become.
Its vessel held only death, and Londen was gone- wasted away. 
She wished to do the same, but knew she could not.

 


 

Pours the Heart

 

Tear-stained cheeks that slowly fall,
Eyes now sorrow-filled, a curtain's pall.
As each memory is gently replayed,
Wasted time and broken faith betrayed.

No more time for joy and cheer,
Now replaced with buckets of bitter tears.
A heavy heart, low and deep,
A hole in life that's grown too deep.

Questions race with no real answers found,
Pain and rain, and darkness abound.
A soul torn apart and lost,
All courage gone, at what cost?

Now the life-light slowly fades,
A blank canvas, the future had been made.
No happy ending in sight,
But still, hope perseveres, in the night.

 


 

Broken promises

 

The whole is fractures, no more to keep-
The trust we had is now so deep-
The shattered pieces, tossed out wide-
Lie scattered upon the ground in pride-

No longer can you come and mend-
Those days of joy we made to last-


The love we shared can't survive-
In the wake of hindsight's blast-

The hope we harboured in our hearts-
Now lies twisted in despair-


These holes we can no longer mend-
Lingering in the air-

Our time was so brief and sudden-
But the memories still remain-
The ties we shared precious and pure-
But yet will not be the same-

 

These split pieces we made-
Are now just but a dream-
A dream of what could have been-
Had promises not been broken by me.

 


 

Deceiver

 

Half-truths lying round like loose change,
Waiting to be spent on unsuspecting prey.


Leading a person 'round in a strange sort of dance,
To a desolate end that they never did foresay.

Weaving stories filled with insufficient facts,
Fragments of truths hidden in the haze.


Each lie presented like a logical reason,
Weighed on a scale of right and wrong, a kept phrase.

 

Strewn in the wind, the facts float on air,
Gathering dust and obscuring the one truth there.
Converging paths each leading to disaster,
Reign as the victors in their maligned lair.

 

Curiosity salivating for the full truth,
When all that was left were misleading clues.


The stakes too high, the lies so thick,
Lies leading to disaster, their insidious rules.

 


 

Dumbfounded

 

My heart stands still
Stunned by the ones I know so well
Caught in between what used to be
And what they meant to me.

 

My words suspended in the air
Clinging to the unsaid prayer
Gasping for a single breath
My love still runs so deep.

 

The realization of a hole
With no way to fill or console
The hope for a better tomorrow
Seems far off and far too hollow.

 

With a sorrow as heavy as stone
My heart silently mourns alone
Emptiness replaced what was once joy
And I'm left here dumbfounded.

 


 

Blankets

 

There once was a hope so sublime,
That it lifted our spirits in time,
Though the future was bleak,
It had hope that was chic,
It stays with us still and will never die.

 


 

Handle with Care

 

Like a shard of glass,
It stands out for you,
Waiting for you to take that which was given.

It beats, waiting for you to comply?
Shall you fill my desires,
Or will you simply let me die?

 


 

This is What The World is

 

Life and death embrace in an eternal embrace,
A timeless union that cannot be replaced.  
Life is a journey that cannot be denied,
For death must come for the journey to be tried.

The joys of life can bring such rapturous pleasure,
But death brings its own measure.  


Life's beauty and wonders that none can deny,
Are taken away in a single goodbye.

The brief thrill of life must one day pass,
And life must surrender every joy and laugh.  
Bereft of rest, life and death entwine,
Till death is forgotten and life sublime.

 


 

Cinquain Poems:

 

Dreamer
Imagining love
A world of possibilities
Endless potential, hope alive
The achiever 

 

Meadows
Vibrant, lush
Gifted us peace, tranquility
Soothing souls, delighting eyes
Channeled divinity 

 

Gifts
Valuable, rare
Expression of thought, love, care
Priceless, special, something new
Subtle appreciation 

 

Wisdom
Precious, deep
Achievement of life's mastery
Treasures of knowledge, truth seen
Enlightenment 

 

Angels
Protectors kind
Divine messengers of love
Guiding us, cherishing souls
Blessings abound

 

Snowflake
Pure frost
Unique shape,
Floating through air
Fairytale snow

 

Laughter
Joyful, free
Mysterious beauty,
Instant connection of souls
Heavenly bliss

 

Roses
lovely, bold
Romantic symbol,
Sweet fragrance released in bloom
Fragile beauty

 


 

Bloat

 

Greed is like a river to a kings delight,
Twisting and twirling in an unnatural flight.
Its course unstoppable: majestic and royal,
A paralyzing hunger by its never-ending toll.

 

The ruler’s need for more, unchecked, 
Rises with each granted wish and unchecked.
The treasury grows heavy with needless gold,
As the King demands, forever in want of more.

The bloated fish begins to smell within,
Unsatisfied with all of its cached in bins.


The King's power and wealth abound and swell,
While his kingdom and citizens fail to thrive as well.

As the King's coffers overflow with excess,
His avarice never does seem to regress.


The fish's body grows, swelling and large,
A cautionary reminder of the King's charge.

 


 

Call and Answer

 

I imagine what secrets are held within,
Like a special kiss stolen in time and then,
Love letters fluttering like a sweet caress,
Filled with all the tenderness,

Flowers and kisses, and dreams to share,
Reminding me of the strength of care,
The words so intimate and pure and true,


A love that's shared from me to you.

A journey of love and passion explored,
Each line a memory of sweet accord,
Tears, laughter and memories of days past,
As I read through this letter so fast.

Letters that speak of the yearning hope within--
A timeless reminder our hearts remain intertwined,
My love and thoughts ablaze, unchanging and free,
Short of falling in love endlessly.

 


 

Dauntless is the Path Before Me

 

Dauntless, Dauntless, Dauntless.
Dauntless is the Path before me,
Aged tests wrought with pain and guile.
Stretching past man’s intrepid isle.

 

Soundless wraiths in truncated dance,
They linger, in mindless, haunted trance.
Till breaking forth from spellbound wonder,
They relinquish their chains, tossing asunder.

 

Wraith-bound broke their numbing display,
Lest they continue a bleak, binding array.
Caution, Caution, be those who wear bitter ties.
For broken together, are they who lie.

 


Signed,

Borris Iver Kortrevich VKML

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