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.

Path of the Highlands (A Letter from Emalf)

Revenge is sweet, so they tell me. I felt a rush of fear, exploding in every heart and soul of the Niknogard. Yet, fear is an added edge when mixed with vengeance.
So it happened, the Wigrae faced a powerful vendetta. Natas had lost his cool, and in blind rage released his squadrons. They were poorly organised, thus their plight with the Seeb and Preachers was short lived. Natas's Squadron was dealt a heavy blow.
A small band of Dribydal managed to take Iron Passage, by complete surprise. The few Surtics that guarded the passage were shown no quarter.
This gave another band of Esors and Dragons, an easy passage to invade Ketpoc. Ketpoc fell silently, within moments of the invasion. Kindaal, now intends to use Ketpoc, as his lower base for his east flank.
Kindaal made Ferral Second in Charge. Ferral, a member of the Dincara, will lead a force of Dincara, Misty and Antis up along the west coast.
Ferral chose six delegates from the eight tribes of Dincara. Kindaal suggested to Ferral it would be wise to incorporate Misty, of the Cogil, and Antis, being of the Elder Preachers, into his band.
Together, this mob marched on to Ketpoc where they were to meet up with the remaining members of this small band. They were Tyne and Valen, who belonged to the Esor branch of Tenders. This contingent of Tender were going to be sung of, from this day forward. This was the initial coming together of the 'Band of Eleven'.
The Eleven were to scout and ensure the safety of the following major assault. A large force of Tender. In fact the Eleven make a so called 'path of the Highlands'.
Together, you and I, will follow the Eleven and the Tender along the Highlands on the east coast. Occasionally, Runners will inform us of Kindaal's actions in the Marshlands. In turn, the Runner will tell Kindaal of our progress.

Remember, I'm always here, Emalf.

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.

Eleven's Gathering

Tyne and Valen waited eagerly, patiently,
They could see the other nine on the rise.
Soon the Eleven were to become as one;
Wiser, stronger, bonded through spiritual ties.

There's; Ferral of the Elite, Leader of the Eleven.
Arak of the Soeh, Master at Arms.
Sil of the Abe, Collector of Long Sight.
Misty of the Cogil, Teller of the Psalms.

Then there's; Pilot of the Sky, Antis of the Elder Preacher.
First Weaver of Silk, Tash of the Nish.
Second Weaver of Silk, Job of the Inco.
Spinner of the Trap, Aaro of the Miche.

Last but not least;
Bo of the Sest, Strategist for the Eleven.
Tyne of the Esor, Master of the Underground.
Valen of the Esor, Artist of Enticement.
Hell has no fury, now that these hearts are bound.

Battle of Lorac

This is where it all started.
A 'modest' Assistant, met some Tenders in Lorac;
A squad of Niknogard were in an Ela House,
When the Wigrae started an all out attack.

The Niknogard were considerably outnumbered;
Everything, was in the favour of the Wigrae.
They had the numbers, and reinforcements.
They had planned everything for this day.

Lorac, is far from civilised Garden;
The squad were on a routine border patrol.
This battle was to be the shortest;
The squads name, to be entered into the War's Scroll.

The Wigrae had proven their point;
In this flurry, they were the largest and best.
As for now they will keep,
Whilst we lay our beloved to an unending rest.

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.

He Calls Me Sloth

The Master, he calls me Sloth,
He, he and everyone thinks that I'm dumb.
That is not at all true, it's a lie,
I'm intelligent, and what's more, I'm handsome.

The Master is very mean to me,
I mean to say, I am quite hairy;
Plus there is the advantage of not being legless.
But what he does to me is scary.

He tells me that I need a rest,
That I should cut down on a few things.
Anyway, I get myself a silk blanket,
An when I wake up, he's gone and given me wings.

My body needs the warmth of light;
The Master plays more tricks than anyone.
While I'm not looking, in the right direction,
He makes the warm light, as hot as the sun.