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Dangerous words spoken at evening tide ring so deep...
The Age of Chaos is gone lost now to struggle.
The Serpent and Mother Unicorn struggle renewed.
While dreams remembered twist thoughts and deeds.
And secrets refuse to be hold in silence forever.
These are days poets lament when dreams shatter...
Dark horns sound forth in pure horror,
-- a sound of war hosts angry like a dragon's roar.
Fires roar forth, mountains break and seas boil red as blood.
For all the shadows bleed as the great forces seek dominion.
Such is only one moment, but a New Age is born.
we lay our hands on reality and shape it to our will.
Heralding a time of new born Princes!
A new Age of Cold! An Age of Fire! An Age of Pain!
With so much born of this struggle worthy of remembering!
Such followers of Law and Chaos rise to war.
while shadows call forth the hosts who will die on a whim.
Broken World reclaimed by Nightmares reborn!
No lands or realms will stand, nor hidden sanctuaries be safe.
Yet the struggle goes on. For hope is not dead.
Oh sagas will be sung by those who dare raise their voices!
Many shall find sad ends in the days to come.
Yet hidden still are the thought of dead gods.
And in the end if all is lost, hate and rage will burn still.
It is a time of Swords and Axes. A blood Age. A death Age.
Victory shall determine the truths of our reality -
For those who would walk in the Shadowlands.
Oh, I created this poem in the cave above the lovely sea today. My mood swings even frighten me at times. the serpent on my wrist seems to have a bite that hangs ever in my memory. The future is such a blur. so I lost myself in the magic of words.
I rarely talk with father. He seems so busy that I find myself a good book and just get lost in it. yet even sitting in an overstuffed chair I can feel the struggle that is coming. Reality is at stakes as the forces of the courts and those created by my parents will seek to find a balance where only chaos ruled before.
It is the New age and many hands turn to grip swords and other weapons. as we, the inheritors of this new age are just beginning to explore how we shall shape new realities by our will.
So many thoughts as I wrote the poem. But I will not let my relatives see it. It will go where I have put the others that share its dark quality. Secrets of my own mood and mind shall be kept.