tcs_tonsils_

Thomas Komnenos cocked a brow, watching events unfolding from the sky.

Oede va Koeng Georg I 8th of Gronna ag Droba, 482 E.S. Koeng Georg I All hail, our great Koeng, Georg the First! You are ever pleasant and ever friendly. While you were young, some thought you clever. But during your rule, your true wit shone through. What tales will be sung of your caring nature! Stories are woven, telling your mending touch. Where once these lands seemed divided and split, The crown strove to sow the strands back together. And oh what beautiful ballads shall be crafted, Depicting a hardy King’s commitment to lead. Neither the cruel words of men nor the harsh blade of Mori, Could take your fierce fight away. You have walked the long road and fought the good fight. For any king can rule a Kingdom, but only the great ones earn their people’s respect. Signed, Lord Borris Iver Kortrevich VKML Battle-Bard of the Brotherhood of Saint Karl, Knight-Bard of the Order of the Crow, and Court-Poet of Hanseti-Ruska.

Engulfed in Flame A fierce orange glow illuminates the horizon. Smoke twists, swirling upwards, Blotting out speckled starlight, Disappearing into the darkness of night. Distant voices called out, Fear burrowed inside them, Gnarling further with every crack and whimper. They plead, some for the swiftness of death, Others for their loved one’s returning. Yet their agony holds unwavering, Cries filling a seemingly bottomless void. Towers stood ablaze, arms of fire Outstretched towards the space above. They pray to death, destruction, and chaos. For the end of man, nation, and king. What love could any Almarian hold for the forces of evil? For when they step, the very cornerstone of man trembles. Like citrus poured on a wound, the Mori sting and burn. Their existence, is a festering plague upon the landscape. When all have sunken into the earth, When fires of sullied that which was, And only ash will pour from the sky. When every stone is overturned, When land is stained with black and red, And skies are defiled with dense gray smog. When the land is unsanctified, Corrupted with the treachery of the Enemy, Even then, we shall remain. We shall rebuild and regrow. We shall hold fast and hold on. We shall go forth and prosper. We, who remember these days, We, who have seen the end of all things, We, who have witnessed the true evils of nature, We are those who have banded together, Outlasting even what sought to execute us. We are Strong, we are Warriors, we are One. Signed, Borris Iver Kortrevich VKML

THE HAESENI PAPYRUS: VOLUME FOUR TABLE OF CONTENTS Poem Index I. Longing II. The Home I Once Knew III. Emptiness and Solitude IV. Skirmish V. Tranquility VI. Hogo VII. Broken Ouroboros VII. Prodigy Poems I. Longing From the hills upon which I stand The toils of your life seem far I wish I could cross the land And give you my helping hand There is no line in the sand, But a wall I cannot cross, Too much time under command, In time, I will come back grand. By Ser Sterling Percy Amador II. The Home I Once Knew I do not recognize that I had known, The voices that once rang, Now hold silent, Their tones deafened by the earth. The faces that surround me, I cannot see those whom I loved, I cannot see those who loved me, Not in their features, Or in the depths of their eyes. How distant has this place become. These walls hold no love for me, No great stories are told, For the words have been strangled, Fallen still by the passage of time. I am a stranger, once a friend, Regarded as if I am shrouded in darkness. It is an odd phenomenon, this fact, That the words that I write, Those woven upon the page, Are more known than I shall ever be. By Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich III. Emptiness and Solitude In solitude’s embrace, I dwell alone, No comforting touch, no gentle hand to hold, A shadow cast upon my soul’s own throne. Just emptiness and Silence uncontrolled. Isolation’s icy grip, a heavy shroud, Longing for connection, but fate unkind, No voices, no laughter, no friendly crowd. Loneliness, a constant, haunting bind. In Stillness, I ponder, and memories rise, Of moments shared, of loves that were once mine, Their echoes linger, and a bittersweet surprise, As I navigate this empty space of time. Yet in this emptiness, a light may shine, A chance to find a path, a new way home, To break free from the grip of this design, And embrace the future, no longer alone. By Stefaniya Ipera and Artorius Silva IV. Skirmish Weapon of war I wield Trekking through the snow House banner on my shield Arrows fly across the field But they all feel so slow Strike our shields, we don't yield Those injured will be healed Fury dealt blow by blow Retribution with steel By Ser Sterling Percy Amador V. Tranquility Amidst the fields of green and gold, A gentle breeze begins to bow, And in its wake the flowers unfold, Their petals dancing to and fro. The sun begins its slow descent, As shadows stretch across the land, And in the peaceful quiet event, The world seems to hold still, unplanned. By Uknown VI. Hogo In the library, rows of books stand tall, A treasure trove for one and all. Each cover a portal to another place, From classics to mysteries, adventures and more, The librarian's books hold stories galore. A haven for those who seek to explore, In the library, books are a world to adore. Hogo, a name that's rarely heard, Yet a person with a heart preferred. With kindness and compassion in spades, Their selfless deeds never fade. A friend to all, with a smile so wide, Hogo's presence is like a calming tide. A beacon of hope in a world that's tough, Hogo's spirit makes life less rough. When new faces arrive, with confusion and doubt. Hogo swoops to help, does not shout. The colour of pink who's hand guides, takes player retention in their stride. By Unknown VII. Broken Ouroboros As I awaken from my slumber deep, A realization pierces through my sleep, I have tread upon these paths before, In lands that were once known by their own downfalls. From my first breath, it was called Oren, A place where I learned to love and learn, Then as I grew and came of age, Hanseti-Ruska became my stage. As I stepped into my adulthood, The city of Petra stood, tall and good, But what is it now, I cannot say, For time has changed and swept it away. My life, a tapestry woven by fate, A fabric not of my own create, I have never found peace and rest, A constant wanderer on a lifelong quest. Yet I hope to find that elusive peace, In a life that's free from worldly unease, But for now, I wander and roam, Through lands that were once called home. Oren, Hanseti-Ruska, Petra fair, Each a treasure with stories to share, But none can give me the peace I seek, For home is a feeling that I long to keep But one gift I can count on, without fail, Is the vibrant morning sun, a daily tale, Of hope and renewal, a promise of light, A glimmer of peace in an endless night. Perhaps peace is not attained from the earth below, But from our Heavenly Father, who we must know, Shall always and forever be our true home, A place of love and grace, where we will never roam. So I'll keep walking, with faith as my guide, Through lands familiar, and those that I'll abide, For in the end, it's not the place that I seek, But the peace within, that my soul does keep. By Lords Justinian Basrid and Adolphus von Alstreim VIII. Prodigy See the work of his hands, Even in one so young. Each stroke of the quill, Exactly how it is intended. The depths of his mind, Something a normal man, Can only hope to comprehend. By Sir Borris Iver Kortrevich SIGNED, The Honorable, Justinian Basrid, Count of Susa The Honorable, Adolphus von Alstreim, Earl of Suffolk, Prince of Sutica The Honorable, Emigliana Maeya O’Rourke, Countess of Halstaig, Baroness of Al’ildic Lord Borris Iver Kortrevich, VKML Lord, Ser Sterling Percy Amador, Vice Emmissar Lady, Stefaniya Ipera Lord, Artorius Silva

“This family has so many problems.” Uttered an aged Kortrevich.

“They take away more access, Johann. We barely have interest in it as it stands, and now they divvy it up.” Iulius Vernhart comments to His friend from the Seven Skies. @Raijen Stars

Borris sits alone watching as the people come back from hunting- a victory for the Kingdom. They did not know that the Prinzenas had perished. She had been Sebastien's cousin, but more importantly, his lifelong friend. She had spent time with him in his mourning, and his joys, and he had done the same for her. He had always tried to do right by her- and she had now fallen. Like many others, he could not join her in this new quest. He weeped, his tears falling to the pavement below.

"Ser Jakob Morovar" Ser Sebastien smiled. "Say what you will, but he was dedicated and loyal."

A MOST YOUTHFUL COUNT Issued by the COUNT OF OTISTADT On this 7th of Tov ag Yermy, 472 E.S. VA BIRODEO HERZENAV AG EDLERVIK, Greater tragedy has seemingly befallen the House of Ludovar. For the past 4 years, none have seen or heard from Countess Emma Henrietta of Otistadt, and it is feared among her kin that she may be permanently missing. As such, she is unable to adequately perform her duties as the Countess of Otistadt and her titles shall therefore pass to her eldest son, Baron Henrik Matyas Andrei of Juliksburg who has recently reached the age of majority. The House of Ludovar prays for its missing Countess-Mother’s swift return, and for prosperous guidance from the young Count in this time of great heartbreak. TIZ LIFST DLUM HAESIY, The Right Honourable, Henrik Matyas Andrei Ludovar, Count of Otistadt, Viscount of Sezwesk, Baron of Juliksburg, Lord of Ricksburg

Book book book book book book book!

"You have grown into a fierce warrior, Cirilla." Sebastien said to himself as he finished the report. "The Order will benefit greatly from this one."

"Excellent." The Savoyard beemed as his friend had finally completed his trials.

"Disgraceful. You think I sung of Alec's praises when I was captured- foolish boy." Borris frowned deeply upon hearing the crying child in the room upstairs.

Borris simply chuckles, his promise fulfilled.

THE HAESENI PAPYRUS: VOLUME THREE On this 8h of Gronna ag Droba, 471 E.S. TABLE OF CONTENTS Poem Index I. The Red Walls of Karosgrad II. Wastelands III. Wolves IV. The Canopy V. Clouds VI. Men of Morning VII. My Love VIII. Young Nobility IX. The Candle’s Burning X. Toe-m Poems I. The Red Walls of Karosgrad The red walls of Karosgrad They stand strong like giants in snowfall Bound by stone and yet ironclad Here, peace and love are to be had, Thanks to the bastions who stand tall, The red walls of Karosgrad Two people watch, a man and lad, Shield in one’s hand, armed with a maul Bound by stone and yet ironclad Loss is something that cant be had They must protect us from vile thralls The red walls of Karosograd The knights never tire, always glad Defend, protect, prevent black shawls Bound by stone and yet ironclad Roam free you may like the aoudad In front of them, our foes are small The red walls of Karosgrad Bound by stone and yet ironclad By Lord, Sterling Percy Amador II. Wastelands Ice spikes pierce the dulling sky The snow-capped peaks above me rise, This frostbitten wasteland, a frozen dream A realm of harsh and violent means. The icy winds do howl and moan, The snow-laden trees of the forest groan, The flakes swirl in frosty dance, Yet hold motionless in white trance. The thriving kingdom stands low, But here is where no crop could grow, The deep chill breath is so precise, Far too cold, the winter's vice. It shall nip and bite your ear, The waste is what you’ll learn to fear. The sun's rays reflect off the snow, Yet deadly chasms are hidden below, By Lord, Borris Iver Kortrevich III. Wolves We, soldiers, trot on From the western jewel Of fair and holy Helena, As fangs and talons protrude. Burning, ravaging, The Marnan East fell to us, With only a single bulwark ahead, Being the simple land's end. O Guise, O Guise, Full of envy and lies, Simple Baron, Simple land, Why must you have been before our eyes? ‘Run’, I howled, ‘Run!’ For pity I felt for the rebel, But these legs raced on, Towards their Baron’s blood. Farmer and serf, Human and dwarf, None decided to run, All accepting their miserable fate. Fools, is Ves not near you? There is time to escape before we run through- But they did not, and it is our duty to obey, For the Emperor’s word is fate, none can disobey. In the chaos of fires and burning, We found the Baron standing strong, He let no man come near his manor, But that was not the case for dogs. The hounds of hell, Did they rush so fast you could not escape, O Dreadful rebel baron? Or did you let them catch you standing? Gone in an instance. Your lifeless dead corpse. Gracefully did the dogs, Leave your body, only biting your throat. As the fires leapt from the fields, To the humble manor. Gone with the ashes, The humble baron’s body. We all watched from a distance, As the dogs went to sleep, Peacefully and quietly, Having only taken one life to the deep. I glanced towards the soldiers around me, With snouts made of plate, And darkened eye-slits, Howling in the fire-filled night sky. As I gaze upon the hounds and then the men, The humans slumber, wolves in the night baying, I struggle to comprehend, for when Comparing the two, the dogs seem more humane than the men. By Lords Justinian Basrid and Adolphus von Alstreim IV. The Canopy T’is the forest, a mirage induced with the mind Somewhere to scamper, without your woes A place to think, with ample to find I find that things balance, as the verdant sheen shows Any day of each week Each month that sourly ticks Mothers, and sisters drawn, including me Waiting to see which one it picks A maze of grass n’ brush Us, perceived the same as insects around We can wander, meander. . . what's the rush? We can be simple, no need to be compound Its sad eyes, they draw me in, tell me lies How much can we leech from things that aren’t ours? Let go, it can be official, see which trees have eyes When it can be beneficial, we seem to pass the hours It’s less fun to be seduced by its leafy draw But even worse to see another fail to resist O, how many go missing, a mother and babe in which I saw The moonlight dust fading to a night’s dismiss How one misses a fire in winter’s midst I somehow crave the forest’s umber Hard to think I could be saved by true love’s kiss So let me go, and send me asunder By Lady Emigliana Maeya O’Rourke, V. Clouds Grazing over meadows Gazing up at the skies Brothers of halcyon days One sleeps grass, one flies Galavanting like twins, Gliding in the shadow, That the other provides, And running when winds blow. Grasping at their soft fluff, Grabbing nought but air, Looking up, the clouds fled, To be fed, with no care. By Lord, Sterling Percy Amador VI. Men of the Morning Sounds o'er the rolling hills, O'er fields of clover, O’er fields of mud, O'er the battlefield n’ sight of blood. Waiting on the eve of battle, More dreadful than the thing, Darkness consumes the world below, Acknowledging what's forthcoming. Then at the break of day, they take their stance, Gathering forces to take arms, Each cavalier mounts his stead, Spearmen hold at the ready. Banner bearers raise their flags Watching fast till at time it comes, To raise one's blade and go. Then bursting forth in the fierce display, The men would take to war. O'er the fields of clover, blood-stained green. Soldiers face death, for their lord and king To bring great honor, they die a warrior's death. By Lord, Borris Iver Kortrevich VII. My Love My heart skips steps when you walk I am enamoured by you I lose my words when you talk I wish I knew what to do I am enamoured by you I freeze at your smile like rock I wish I knew what to do I try to love, beat this shock I freeze at your smile like rock My soul sings when I see you I try to love, beat this shock Your laugh paints me a red hue My soul sings when I see you I lose my words when you talk Your laugh paints me a red hue My heart skips steps when you walk By Lord, Sterling Percy Amador VIII. Young Nobility Downswept streams and curtained flags We watched unto your prowess with admiration We were flawed, our eyes bagged Reflecting on our damnation Longing for nothing but to be seen O, to do justice to one’s bloodline Crowns and armor with polished sheen Thus is the curse of a noblime Every gaze is fixed unto us Bounded, a valiant successor in due time The clock ticks O’ the pendulum sways, To give true meaning to our days. All is futile, bound to rust Our fickle minds in endless swirl We latch to things we blindly trust Finding our humanity begins to unfurl. It is hard to fathom life without this duress Something brought swiftly on ourselves Either forced to donn a battledress Or speak vows, drowned out by church bells By Lady Emigliana Maeya O’Rourke, IX. The Candle’s Burning Sleep, Dearest little one, Let forth dreams flow. Tender head, In imagination serene, Like honey for the mind. Go watch Understood ununderstandables, Stories, Pieced oddly together. Take heed of my words, Draw out the slumber, Rest now, Your little head, And fall into wonderland. By Lord, Borris Iver Kortrevich X. Toe-m Eenie, meenie, miney, moe, Ea have seen Aedypapej Borris' toe. It is kind of gross and very icky, Ea suggest running away when his boots get sticky. By a 15 year old, Lady, Josefina Barclay SIGNED, Her Excellency, Josefina Barclay, Duchess-Consort of Reinmar The Honorable, Justinian Basrid, Count of Susa The Honorable, Adolphus von Alstreim, Earl of Suffolk, Prince of Sutica The Honorable, Emigliana Maeya O’Rourke, Countess of Halstaig, Lord Borris Iver Kortrevich, VKML Lord, Sterling Percy Amador

Never Relent Within this world, there are often things that are so devastating that it makes us wish to give up. But we must keep going, we must push through. We are the men of this world, and the sins of this world shall not keep us down. There is nothing that will hold us back from being who we want to be. Therefore, something must be written to show, just as you should never give up on the world, I shall never give up on you. We're no strangers to love You know the rules and so do I A full commitment's what I'm thinking of You wouldn't get this from any other guy I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching, but You're too shy to say it Inside, we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it And if you ask me how I'm feeling Don't tell me you're too blind to see Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you (Ooh, give you up) (Ooh, give you up) Never gonna give, never gonna give (Give you up) Never gonna give, never gonna give (Give you up) We've known each other for so long Your heart's been aching, but You're too shy to say it Inside, we both know what's been going on We know the game and we're gonna play it I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling Gotta make you understand Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you Never gonna give you up Never gonna let you down Never gonna run around and desert you Never gonna make you cry Never gonna say goodbye Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you HIS LORDSHIP, Richard Paul Astley, Duke of Dichord, Count of Cadence, Viscount of Vibes, Baron of Bars, Lord of the Memelands, and Protector of the Rick Roll.

A Poet of Haense, 69 Years old and pretty much a hermit.

Borris Iver Kortrevich

The true legend reveals his himself once more.

“Yet another Orenian blunder.” Muttered a Kortrevich.

An olden Kortrevich dangles his feet off the side of Jerovitz. He stared out towards the lake, towards Petra and Aaun. “I am a ghost.” He uttered.

I think there is a fundamental problem here. Now I personally don’t know Muna, but I find it quite odd that man previous comments, especially most of the ones that have been deleted or censored, were quick to write this off as mere propagation for the war, specifically against Adria. This seems odd to me. 1. Simply because there is a community struggle at the present moment, does not mean there is not genuine concern for the health and safety of payers across the community if one of your players is called out. People can definitely change- especially over 4 years. People can come back from the worst of the worst. Some people’s redemption stores are less… harrowing than others, but they are stories known the less. I think it is important, if you point that you think they are still doing something wrong, give evidence. I hate to say it, but a lot of the Lotc community is known to use so-called ‘gamer words’, even very welcoming, pleasant people who are very helpful. It is sometimes just a accidental slip or your background coming out. That is not condoning the action, but it is there. 3. Provide solid evidence on continued ban-worthy material if you wish for the person to be dishonored and booted. I will say, however, if there is no visual confirmation that there is change, I do not quite understand how to continue in defense of the person in question. I also do not know Charlemagne well. 2. Restoration is a 3-part plan. Firstly, understanding that you did something wrong. Secondly, actually wanting to change from that path. Thirdly seeking forgiveness and move forward. (Sometimes people don’t wanna forgive you, and that is on them.)

The Children of Horen By Borris Iver Kortrevich ON THIS, 14TH OF OWYN'S FLAME, 1917 The rivers run with crimson hue, Drowning all with ruby spew, Gush now forth in aboding torment, Streams the fiery, fierce torrent. What tear-filled cries fall on petrified soil, The burdens of our hands that toil, Their wretched mouths spurn idle hope, Choking out life, the noose-tied rope! Do the words of the once peaceful bring only idleness? Has wickedness brewed only feigned righteousness? Their realms have ushered a lustful hand, Succumbing to bloodshed’s caustic command. Fate conspires her doom-laden appetite to be fed, And feasts upon those too foolish to maintain their head. Darkness prevails following ghastly false ambition, Self-gratification and a pride-inducing expedition. Scarlet ichor runs when pale bodies lay, Mothers and Fathers, Brothers and daughters, The children of Horen weep from where they were slain, Their blood cries out, yet its tones fall on deaf ears. Alas, it grows late, and the hour draws near. Till at last, the gnawing dawn rears, The swift blades shall fall, And the deep earth shall wet from the vitality of man. SIGNED, Lord Borris Iver Kortrevich, Valtakossar of the Order of Queen Maya and the Lily

Borris Iver Kortrevich grins because he sees potential for much poetry in the wake of war.

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