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.

Hasten's Return

It is nice of the Tender and the Eleven,
To give me food, and water for the coming trip.
It won't be long before it starts happening,
When illusion and insanity tend to get a grip.

You need a strong mind when you go Between,
It also helps if you can control your imagination.
The mirages there, are so much larger than life;
They can kill and resurrect, without hesitation.

We rarely have to cross the Between,
But when it is at hand, we are vital;
Messengers to the leaders, conveyors of orders.
It's relieving, that Between is calmest at nightfall.

But for now I need much needed, valuable rest,
I have to be completely aware, crossing Between.
My body has to be physically strong;
My mind, has to be clean and keen.

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.

Quietude

The Eleven broke camp, all was quiet.
The stillness matched it's brother, the dark.
Eerie, but the Eleven enjoyed their rest,
That was until Zech, the Zealot, decided to park.

A Zealot, is an Assistant with a bad reputation,
They persistently squawk about Natas's wisdom.
This Zealot, Zech, has got a big problem,
He is about six castles short of a small kingdom.

Zech sat by the Eleven's warming fire,
Doing nothing but talk, talk, talk.
It wasn't until he noticed Misty,
That he knew he had ended his casual walk.

It was good to know that he still talked,
He will keep the guards at Ketpoc amused.
Ketpoc is forever increasing in the number of captives;
But they are kept well, never mistreated or abused.

Battle of the Heart

The first major battle is fought,
Within all and every Tender's heart.
The rage has to be controlled,
The torment and anger held apart.

These emotions have to be channelled,
Not to be let loose on a wild rampage.
Rexoch decided to appoint Kindaal,
To hold the leash of this enormous rage.

Kindaal is now General of the Tender,
Although he was formerly of the Fair.
His spirit is unbreakable and sincere,
Common Tender think that he walks upon air.

He has already organised the united masses,
Formed them into Battalions and Divisions.
He has chosen the best Captains for the Tender;
The best strategists for the coming missions.

Third Apostle's Letter

It's great to be back, amongst my finest companions. It was good to meet and converse with Nathaniel. But "there's no place like home." So the Ancient saying goes.
It seems awfully, quiet. I know, that the Ancient Lands are both hectic and fast. I also know, that I have been gone for quite a while. No thanks to the TRIPPER. But never, have I seen Garden, so, still.
Where are all my finicky friends?
Never, have they forgotten to make a fuss about my travels. They are constantly curious of the Ancient Lands.
Never, before has Garden been so, eerie.
Why does it seem so, lifeless?
Even Emalf doesn't seem to pay heed, to my persistent cries. Cries for answers.
Will someone, please inform me, of these things?


****** ******* ******* ******* *******


So. It couldn't be avoided. You did your utmost. The damage is done. There is always, hope. There is still a chance, that all is not at an end.
You say that this all happened two turnings ago. Then there's a slim chance, that there are still survivors, both Tender and Assistant.
Without having to confirm it, I would say that Natas has disappeared deep within Mephisot's Catacombs. Unable to comprehend this catastrophe. The enormity of it all. His downfall.
The Songs, they were true in what they spoke.
Come, let us search, for our fallen.


Citizen, the Traveller.

Young and Old

This is the time, Natas waited so patiently for,
The concealed story in the Song, is finally told.
Although Ferral and Kindaal won't know beforehand,
They will know it's on for young and old.

Clashes, conceived from clashes.
Death, born out of the slain.
Bloods, forming into pools of lava.
Sanity, swallowed up by the insane.

The Assistants fell upon the Tenders,
Like the tempest did fall upon the Eleven.
All fallen beings, finding immortality,
In their own individual hell, or heaven.

The beast is released, in full force,
No preference, for it devours old and young.
The foretold song, of the final conflict,
In full glory, is now being sung.