Pre-2015 Wallpaper Gallery

Poetry

The Garden

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.

East Coast ( Ferral's Thoughts )

We've been waiting for Hasten's return,
As he should have returned by now.
Maybe, he's still resting up with Kindaal;
Maybe, he's only away by an hour.

Since he's been gone, things have been stirring.
I think that we are awfully close to the Towers,
Because the fires and chanting are alive;
I don't know if they are Natas's or ours.

I sent a scout out to confirm my thoughts.
He returned to tell me of the Assistant's retreat;
How they were running scared from something,
Unaware of what, he couldn't see through Between's heat.

I do wish Hasten would speed things up,
So I could attack, instead of this dreary wait.
I so wish, Hasten would give me Kindaal's orders,
So that I could seal Natas's deserved fate.

Saracere’s Burning

The tempest’s bright white snakes had bitten Saracere,
In turn, the Assistant’s hidden fortress was ablaze.
Who says good things don’t come from bad,
Or that nights can’t turn into days.

The blaze had destroyed the thick foliage,
That concealed Saracere’s now blackened walls.
If it wasn’t for the tempest’s violent actions,
The Eleven would not have seen the ominous Ghouls.

The Ghouls are Natas’s masters of ambush,
They are said to have come from the Ancient Lands.
Ghouls sneak up from behind their unwitting prey,
Attacking in vile and feverish bands.

Today wasn’t their day, no not at all,
They had lost their element of surprise.
The Eleven conquered Saracere in simplicity,
As the tempest had opened their blind eyes.
Written by Dincara 1985-1986 Currently being illustrated by Ettenyl Laeb

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 Proud Tender

In ancient times, they had there oddities,
Just as we have them with us now.
Their descendants changed in shapes and sizes,
The farmer forced to put away his plough.

I, am a proud descendant of the Emu,
A proud bird, who roamed the Ancient Lands.
The traits, of no flight remained though,
Imagine a Dragon, stuck fast on Garden's sands.

We did develop larger wings to compensate,
However, our huge bodies are too heavy.
But, this is only a physical restraint;
As the Great One, gave us the gift of Levee.

We are true dragons in all aspects,
Mystics in soul, in body we are Tenders.
We hardly ever, leave the borders of the Levee,
In the same way as the Ancient Pretenders.

Foreword (The Garden)

Garden is a small shire, within the boundaries of the sinister Nothing. The people, both animated and mortal, keep their shire clean and beautiful. They also protect their shire from natural foes. Life is usually calm and tranquil in this serene shire, known as Garden.

Nothing's infamous tyrant, Natas, wants most, if not all, of Nothing under his total control. He usually leaves Garden alone. That is until he gets bored with his demonic means of entertainment.

The actual land mass, Nothing, is surrounded by a shallow void; namely "Nothing's Void". To the northern tip of Nothing, across it's Void, lies the Ancient Lands. It was there, were the Ancients would wander (and wonder) about. I say used to; as they were all wiped out by an unpleasant plague. The inhabitants of Nothing, were protected from this horrid plague by the sheer vastness of Nothing's Void.

In the following poems and letters, you will have the opportunity of getting to know most of the Inhabitants; most, not all. You will meet the Wanderer, who with the use of his TRIPPER (Time Rectifier in Parallel Places, Envelope Runner), visits the Ancients.

A fact, which you might find startling, is that Garden, Nothing, and their inhabitants actually exist. There is a piece of the Wanderer, in all of us. What's more, Nothing and Garden aren't that far away. Everything has it's good with it's bad.

Everywhere you look, there is a fragment of Nothing in what you see.

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.