A collection of 3D Poetry's favourite images that they have created. Some of the wallpapers are pre HD, and others created for mobile phones.
My Lady Queen Aethel 1st
Snow Assassin (Aethel)
Gotch Ya Again
On Top of it All
RavenCrow Desktop WIP
MockingJay Fire and Ice
Where is the Magic
Fire and Ice
Cast a Spell
The following poems are randomly selected from part A 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.
The Dihpa have scoured the countryside,
They have rewarded me, with what I want to know.
A force on the East Coast, another on the West;
Now I can get on with this, the ultimate show.
Raspitur is creating some new Shadow creatures,
But I can't wait for them to be conceived.
I have learnt from previous mistakes with Garden,
Personally a different goal will be achieved.
I've selected the best of my numerous mobs,
They will soon be on surprise attacks.
I will use them as a diversion for the others,
Whom have renamed themselves as the Maniax.
The Maniax comprise of Shadow Creatures,
All remaining Sorties, Gubs, and many more.
They, like me, bear an insatiable hunger,
For the forthcoming blood, sweat, and gore.
First Apostle's Letter
Once again, the Traveller sets out on his endeavours. Tripping back in time, to walk amongst his ancestors; the Ancient Ones.
As he has done thousands of times before, the Traveller leaves Garden under the Tenders control. The Tenders are the Travellers companions, when he is in Garden; Garden's armed force and doctorate when he is not.
Although the Traveller only Trips for a short period of time, he is sometimes away for ages. Thus, the infidels, invaders, and plain old foe of nature are tempted to enter Garden's domain.
Inevitably, these unwanted beings infiltrate Garden's boundaries. Havoc breaks free. War finally erupts. Battles, both great and small, are fought with ferocious fury.
But never fear, all will be restored. The dead will live through their young. The conceived will be born. The invaders will be banished.
Yes, the balance of life will be returned.
How do I, know of all of this, you ask?
Is it not obvious that I am he? The God of gods Apostle. The Wanderer. Yes, I am he. The Traveller
We are the guardians of the air,
Brothers of the underground Esor.
We show ourselves, only to the believers,
Who see us work without flaw.
Infiltraters, like the Dihpa, are our prey,
Disappearing like songs unsung.
We are the lords of all sight,
Fierce and tireless are our young.
We, the Dribydal, use illusion,
As a means to confuse others,
Making them believe we're harmless,
The Garden's lonely, tranquil lovers.
What a wicked web we weave,
Enticing the Dihpa, completely unaware.
Our dragon kin young, just attack,
Leaving the Dihpa without a prayer.
Nothing's Inhabitants pt 3
I have travelled beyond the Garden,
Beyond Nothing's shallow void;
Encountering foes beyond reckoning,
Of whom I have battled and destroyed.
The awe of my universe,
Stretches the limit of many a mind.
The splendour of it's magical beauty,
The wars and hatred of it's kind.
Of this Universe no place is better,
Than in the Garden with my friends.
They're unique, in colour and creed,
Personalities created in different blends.
I befriended, care, and protect,
These creatures of the Garden,
I hope, that you too,
Befriend your creatures, of the Garden.
West Coast ( Kindaal's Thoughts )
Where's the Runner, he's been gone too long?
I sent him out to report on how Ferral is going.
Then again, he may be on his way now.
One thing is for sure, my temper is growing.
My patience was at it's tethers end,
So I sent out another Runner on the third day.
The second Runner was only gone for the night,
When he came back, this was all he could say.
"I looked all over the Between Kindaal,
To see nothing, except it's heat haze.
I climbed the Highlands, to see a disturbance,
It looked like the Two Towers were ablaze."
It seems to me that Ferral has progressed well,
Better than I had possibly thought.
Well, time to make a move forwards,
To help Ferral on his fantastic haunt.
A Modest Tender
I was born to be gentle, yet powerful;
If only the Ancients knew, what I know.
For I am wiser than the Elder Ancients;
Considering I was conceived a million millenniums ago.
I am the youngest of my relations,
However, I have far more important duties.
They range from assisting the blind with light,
To giving enough warmth to the little cuties.
My closest friends, the Nooms, are also Tenders,
In the sense, that they carry out what I do.
Well Not as much, they can be quite lazy,
But I consider them as my nocturnal shoe.
Only one, is greater than myself, Emalf,
Being the Only One, who created me, you as well.
The Great One has many names and faces.
The God of gods, persuader of the infidel.