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Unnamed Poem no. 1Burning Words like fire and sin
Stop the breath before it begins
choking off my solemn reply
As I watch the hours go by
Afraid now for things I've never been
Afraid now for things I've never seen
Sing me why it must be this way
tell me how I must obey
Wrap your hands around my flesh
Strengle the neck and press the breast
To feel my heart running beneath
Until burning words cut off my spech
Watch my words as they die
Hear my moans, hear my sighs
But You'll never hear the tears that fall
You'll never see me feel this small
I'll tuck it under cheek and tongue
And keep it hid till I end what you've Begun.
The Morning AfterThe sun broke over the shattered land, Aver's warm rays softly caressing the scars of His now maimed Sister. It had taken much effort to save the mortals who once walked these lands, not to mention the animals and monstrous creatures that had called this world home, but they had succeeded.
"At what cost," He said aloud to himself.
The pantheon was broken, so many Immortals lost in the cataclysm caused by one of the two Fathers of the world. And where was the Creator? How could He allow the Destroyer to finally win out in this ages long battle for these mortals lives? Why had an unnamed, unknown Goddess been the only one to step forward to save what She was able.
"What shall we do now, Valeth?" Aver asked of the Ever-present, the God of Death.
"They are not in my realm," the Ever-present said, for indeed the souls of those mortals who had disappeared moments before the destruction had not passed into the plane of death.
"They are safe," said Nalena, Goddess of Dreams. She materialized f
Maybe a prologueHe waded through the surrounding battle as effortlessly as a child through shallow waves, the bodies falling around him like so many drops of ocean spray that crash futile against an unforgiving wall. Almost casually he brushed aside a fleeing woman, her shape lost within the moving shadow behind him, her screams lasting no longer than the recognition of her presence. Screams not so very much different than those which had begun this war. He brushed aside the thought with a physical gesture, again moving a woman from his path with dark glove, but this one would not so easily be brushed aside. Her image burned within his eyes, and he felt as if he should be remembering something other than her agonized screams. He waded further into the ocean of bodies and gleaming metal.
They had come in the night with the sharp whistle of a thousand trebuchet shots. The stars watched over the slaughter with no cloud or moon to soften their view of what lie beneath. This city could have been spared, it
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