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.

Sorties

A quick brief on the rest of the Division.
There are the Feslii, Spaws, Truth Feslii.
These are the squadrons of Aerial Reconnaissance,
Who assist the Sijsad in their relentless pry.

Then there are the Fael Hoppers,
This squadron won't give up in any fight;
Where there's a will there is a way,
And by the way they pack a good bite.

The Takien are of the Minor Meek,
Small, but able to perform delicate jobs.
Most of these occupations are significant,
Disabling weak hearts leaving only their throbs.

There are others both large and small,
But they have already been broken apart;
To re-group into even more powerful sorties.
The sort of information to break the warmest heart.

Tempest

The quietude, was far too quiet,
Not unlike the calm before the storm.
Something was wrong, horribly wrong,
They waited, to endure this unseen scorn.

All of a sudden all hell broke free,
The tempest raged with a mind of it's own.
Great old tress came crashing down around them,
They could hear others in the distance, groan.

The skies were alive with bright white snakes,
Slithering towards and striking at anything.
Seas of the sky had broken their banks,
Sending torrents down upon the Eleven's ring.

The Eleven were at the mercy of this entity,
As it's tongue lashed out continuously.
Then, as it arrived it disappeared,
Leaving it's destruction for all to see.

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.

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.

Uprising

Never before has so many joined forces:
The underground Tenders, the Aerial Acrobats,
The Fey, and their Seen Brothers, old and young.
An alliance formed, with the Mythical Cats.

The Mystical Panther broke free,
His anger pointed toward the Descendant.
Then, almost out of no where, Rexoch appeared;
The great Mystic, holder of the Oracle Pendant.

All these, and ever so more,
Made alliances, pacts, and blood ties.
The atmosphere of this coming together,
United friendship shining in everyone's eyes.

The meek, rubbing shoulders with the great,
The great associating with the meek.
Rexoch struck his staff immediately lighting the sky,
Proclaiming that we will be rid of Dark's reek.

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.