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The L.M.A.K. Anthology | VOLUME TWO


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VOLUME TWO

— — —

A FOUNT OF POETRY

— — —

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ISSUED BY THE

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ON THIS 8TH DAY OF WZUVAR AG BYVKA OF 513 E.S.

──────────────🜂──────────────

 

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Thirty years ago, the world lost one of its brightest stars in Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich. . . my great uncle and one of the greatest poets in all humanity. Growing up I always read the works of Sir Borris. In fact, he was the sole reason why I’m able to read and write today. Those poems he wrote from childhood to his last breath inspired me to become the writer I am today, and today I share with you some unseen gems.

 

To be a good poet, one must be consistent, diligent, or heavily meaningful in writing. . . Sir Borris had all three qualities and much, much more. With every fiber of my artistic value as both a participant and enjoyer of the arts, there have been few who could even hold up to the standard of which he built, and there will still be few as time goes on.

 

Without further adieu, for the first time in history, I have the honor to present. . .

 

Nine Unpublished Poems

By

Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich

 

 


 

 

Completed on 27th of Msitza ag Dargund,  480 E.S. by Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich

Published on 8th of Wzuvar ag Byvca, 513 E.S. by Leonid Marco d’Arkent-Kortrevich

 

 


 

 

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[!] A portrait of an adult Borris Iver Kortrevich 

@tcs_tonsils_

 

 


 



 

After it All

 

Take heed, my Love,

For the day may come when I am not but dust.

If in grief, keep it brief.

Do not mourn my passing.

 

Don’t forget that which was,

Yet do not forgo that which could be.

For when I am but rot and bone,

I hope you find another home.

 

 


 

 

Shades

 

Wind die down, Wind die down.

Let us not, in torrent, drown.

Calm your rush which pounds at the door.

Causing crisp chill to flood from the floor.

 

Leave us so that warmth might resume,

Be not this our frozen tomb.

Keep the fire’s roaring blaze,

Steady within the harth’s homely base.

 

 


 

 

Songbird’s Melody

 

Only a peak

Is what I seek,

To look upon her face.


But far beyond,

That tender song,

Is the beauty underneath.

 

 


 

 

Worth

 

How do you define your worth?

By wealth given to you at birth?

Or the titles awarded by those seeing mirth?

 

Do you listen to other’s words?

Taking heart of insults given?

If so, then leave, take pack and go,

For your future they have no power to sow.

 

 


 

 

We are No Longer Children

 

Wan lit faces pass us by,

Their looks only a blur.

For in this moment is you and I,

Finally, finally, finally.

 

Too long we played hide and seek,

Our livelyhoods the prize.

Now finally, finally, we’ve finished our bout,

Love to find the light.


 

 


 

 

Capture of a Little Kortrevich

 

Brutal hands have dragged me here,

Torn my shirt in two.

 

My head was bashed on rock and stone

Causing me to bleed.

 

Why have you gone and captured me?

What wrong have I done?

 

For you were the love of Vasi, no?

Who placed a child in her womb.

 

Yet the monster deep inside she saw,

So from your arms she fled.

 

What a fool she was to trust your heart,

The villain in the night.

 

So you broke down our door,

Demanding the one you thought you knew.

 

You have grabbed both men and children,

Hauling us into the darkness.

 

Yet men did come to our aid,

Even those we fought against,

 

For in your rage, you skipped a page,

Harming a wife and lady..

 

You truly are not a man of wit,

And Your anger is unbecoming.

 

Take to heart these simple words.

Your reckoning soon arrives.

 

 


 

 

Death Sentence

 

Hands a ‘rolling.

Hands a ‘rolling.

Fates’ threads cut clean.

 

No ballads shall seek to praise you.

Nor poems, songs, or odes.

 

Alec, Alec, a sad sight to see,

A blot on the face of earth.

The stain upon the land of man,

Yet man he was but not.

 

I hope you suffered, kicked and squealed,

When a’last the lever dropped.

 

You never learned,

Till that final breath.

Your reckoning at last did come.

 

 


 

 

Sins of the Father and Mother

 

How can I forgive?

What terror I received on your behalf!

You Left, I cried, “Gone, Gone.”

 

Still now you ask for return,

Like you have done no wrong.

Yet I see the demon in your children’s eyes,

The man we all despise.

 

 


 

 

Nikolai - 480 E.S.

 

 You are interesting as I look back on life,

For now I see the struggle.

It was always there, biting at the foot,

Like disease within a murky trench.

 

You had demons, more than other do,

That caught you when looking back.

The mysteries of practicies,

Your name falls from the group.

 

There were faults,

Bloated and Porous,

That followed where you led.

Perhaps if those were set aside,

You’d still be here a while.

 

Yet you looked for ways build the house,

To stand up for what was true.

You raised another’s foolish child, 

With compassion in your heart.

 

For that I’m grateful, I truly am,

Though I seldom care to say.

In days I couldn’t find my way,

You lead me in the dark.

 

──────────────🜂──────────────

 

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His Excellency, LEONID MARCO D’ARKENT KORTREVICH,

Lord Marshal of Hanseti-Ruska, Master of the Arts of The Esrova Court, Archivist of Koravia, Squire of The Order of The Crow, “Orcbani”, “The Poet Marshal”,  War Poet.

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This set of unpublished poetry struck familiar to a certain blind transcriber, the pen reading aloud to her the words of the late Kortrevich. With a perked brow, Olenna Katerina Rademacher turned to face the wall at her right lined with volumes of texts and tomes. Taking a length of shelf to itself, the entire collection of transcribed works of Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich stood there, long since published, displayed, and sold in Aaun. The blonde hummed as she set aside the collection only recently published. "Good to know I'm ahead of the industry..." Her visage veiled by a white cloth bowed low in brief prayer. "GOD bless Ser Borris upon his death anniversary."

 

Spoiler

 This is a certified slay. Congrats to Alamo, what a great character and I'm glad people still celebrate him

 

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In the Seven Skies Ser Nikolai Mikhail Kortrevich would pat Borris on the back, proudly reminding him how his work will live on forever.

"Best poet who has ever lived." 

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Borris Iver Kortrevich, the Poet of Jerovitz, smiled as he looked down from where he sat. He couldn't help but answer the man speaking to him. "I will watch with pride from above now, and on that day you will surely be named Valtakossar - It is his turn, a Kortrevich who has allowed the talents of his poetry to spread past the House and past Haense. It is my turn to watch these Historical moments unfold." @Phersades

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Somewhere in the Seven Skies a Kortrevich Lady who has been passed for decades, blinks down upon the words. Tears fluttered out her blue hues. The words in the unpublish poems ached her once alive heart. She missed the days of when she was a young girl in a happy world before she died.

 "Beautifully written Borris.. Beautifully written."

 

She uttered out with a faint smile. Even in death somethings never changed..

 

Spoiler

A great read! These are super pretty! Amazing poet irl and ingame Alamo deserves all the praise!!

 

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