3D Poetry

Poetry

The Garden

The following poems are randomly selected from part B of the Garden series.

If you are patient, the whole story may appear. There is a doorway on this site, that will open to the poetry collection, both in context and complexity.

Modesty

The ominous ground dragon, Wigrae;
Evil, psychic twin of the inferior Niknogard,
Do present myself for you to study, and compare.
A prerequisite, I wish for "no holds barred."

I am larger in size, both physical and mental,
The Niknogard doesn't even come close to me.
I am more ferocious and volatile,
All they can do is fall over and flee.

Yes, I am the largest and the best.
Yes, I am a humble, modest creature.
Put us together in a grand battle,
I'll come out as the best feature.

Oh, what a modest beauty I am,
You can't compare me to anyone.
Come, dance and dine with me,
Join in my great pleasant fun.

He Calls Me Sloth

The Master, he calls me Sloth,
He, he and everyone thinks that I'm dumb.
That is not at all true, it's a lie,
I'm intelligent, and what's more, I'm handsome.

The Master is very mean to me,
I mean to say, I am quite hairy;
Plus there is the advantage of not being legless.
But what he does to me is scary.

He tells me that I need a rest,
That I should cut down on a few things.
Anyway, I get myself a silk blanket,
An when I wake up, he's gone and given me wings.

My body needs the warmth of light;
The Master plays more tricks than anyone.
While I'm not looking, in the right direction,
He makes the warm light, as hot as the sun.

Meek of the Squadron

Welcome to the Divisional Aerial Field;
There are so many squadrons to see and greet.
They range from the Sloths to the Sijsads;
We, being the latter are the Assistants meek.

Most of the flying Assistants join forces,
Attacking in the same manner of fashion.
The way we attack is to remove the life force,
This is completed in a frenzied violent passion.

We the Sijsad consist mainly of infiltrates,
Performing in the art of the gracious spy.
We find the weaknesses and or strong points,
Finding out who can or can't fly.

It doesn't always work the way we would like;
The Tenders aren't partial to bribes,
Not through lack of trying to convince;
Tenders pick up all evil nasty vibes.

So

It has happened once again, as it has done every millennium or so. The Great One, has means in his ways. These wars, of total annihilation, act as a cleansing process.
In short, the Song stated that a certain tribes bravado, would cause an uproar. From there, war would eventuate. As we can see, the Song was indeed true.
Citizen returned to find his friends, all but gone. He searched for any surviving Tender, or Assistants. He found a few, here and there.
Whilst looking for his friends, the Great One revealed himself to Citizen. It was there, that the Great One told, and sang, to Citizen the New Song.
So, out of fire and ice, Nothing's inhabitants are to be rekindled. As they strengthen in numbers, so will the prophecy come to light in the New Song.
Hasten found his way out of Mephisot's Catacombs. He, like Citizen, was confronted with a new land, and life.
Together, they will regroup, and rebuild Garden. The Assistants will follow their noses, back to Mephisot.
Nothing's activities, for now, are at a dull. But they will pick up in time, of that I am sure.
I was too emotional to explain to Citizen, what had happened. He will learn, and so will the others, as they travel along life's new highway.
Remember, in heart and soul, that no matter where you are, I will always be here. For guidance, companionship, and to enlighten your darkness.

Yours Eternally
Emalf.

Guidance (A letter from Emalf)

Hi! Doesn't look good, does it?

The Great One, has given me this bitter job. He has given it to me for one reason; that being, whatever happens to Garden, I will still be here. Maybe, just maybe, you'll protect me from the loneliness. The job, as much as I don't want it, is to inform you of the matters at hand. No offence, it's not you, it's the events that I have been told about. They have already commenced.

I've been introduced before. Now it's time to get to know each other a bit better. I'm Emalf, and you are . . . Come on, don't be shy, after all, we may be the only two left. I'd prefer to be friends, instead of two beings, who won't communicate.

There might still be time. I've contacted the Wanderer. He's received the message, but, well, you don't want to know. Well! Whilst staying with his ancestor, his TRIPPER was stolen. Thieves were everywhere in the Ancient days. I did warn him about that.

The Great One, has chosen you, to protect his favourite realm. I have faith in all of His decisions, and in you.

For now, I'll let you think. Guard Garden to the best of your ability. If you ever need guidance and moral support, just look up. You'll find me. I'm always here.

Emalf.

Fall of Ketpoc

It wasn't long before the skies were alight,
With a spectacular display of many a dog fight.
The sky was full of flying Tender and Assistant;
So full you couldn't possibly fly a kite.

Natas swallowed the bait, hook, line, and sinker;
Unaware that the Dribydal had taken an important passage.
The armed Esors and Mystic Dragons soon followed;
Together they overpowered Ketpoc's main Sage.

This turned out to be a silent take-over,
As Kindaal had hoped it would be so.
The captured were placed in dank dungeons,
To squander time on their new found woe.

Yes Ketpoc fell upon a silent fate,
Natas is still oblivious to what has occurred.
One of his main arteries is destroyed.
Maybe he'll never know where he erred.