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.

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.

Bull Horn

The Niknogard charged at double time,
Forming the famous formation, the Bull Horn.
The Wigrae became aware of their pursuit,
Thus they planned a counter attack on the second dawn.

The Bull Horn formation is designed well;
Consisting of two major flanks and a front.
When the front encounters the enemy,
The flanks then fold, creating a massive stunt.

The enemy is surrounded by the Bull Horn,
They are at the mercy of their captors.
There is no escape from this deadly weapon,
The captured therefore have to endure their foes rapture.

So it happened to the Wigrae's main force,
Surrounded, from then on they were all killed.
That is except one, who was released,
To inform his master, who won't be thrilled.

Reality

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.

Communications

All these great forces have united themselves,
Yet they are unorganised, but ready.
The Wanderer is absent, they need a leader,
Whose nerves are rock hard and steady.

Who will lead this deserving cause?
Who will co-ordinate the battles to come?
Who can cope with the pressures?
Who is five steps ahead of everyone?

When is this person going to speak up?
Not even Rexoch can conjure up such a person.
But Rexoch will handle all communications,
He will be the aide for this person.

Wait! I hear a strangers voice calling.
You will accept, Rexoch will be pleased.
Understand communications are going to be difficult,
But at last, vengeance can finally be released.

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.

Xenophobia

Xenophobia rages throughout the Highlands,
Much like a sinister, rabid disease.
News of the Eleven had swept like wildfire,
Scared Assistants running away upon their knees.

They would take one look at Antis,
Thinking of him as nothing but a stray.
But all of a sudden they see that Ferral,
Sil, Arak, and the rest want to play.

The Eleven play a game of odds,
They bet on the outcome of the next fight.
That is to say how many opponents run,
And how many stand up from fright.

All the wayward Assistants make for safety,
Which they think lies in the Lowlands.
They are surprisingly led to their imprisonment,
Escorted by a branch of gentle Tender hands.