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.

Meek of the Squadron

Welcome to the Divisional Aerial Field;
There are so many squadrons to see and greet.
They range from the Sloths to the Sijsads;
We, being the latter are the Assistants meek.

Most of the flying Assistants join forces,
Attacking in the same manner of fashion.
The way we attack is to remove the life force,
This is completed in a frenzied violent passion.

We the Sijsad consist mainly of infiltrates,
Performing in the art of the gracious spy.
We find the weaknesses and or strong points,
Finding out who can or can't fly.

It doesn't always work the way we would like;
The Tenders aren't partial to bribes,
Not through lack of trying to convince;
Tenders pick up all evil nasty vibes.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.