Win Wayfriend's Money
Moderator: Orlion
- Dread Poet Jethro
- My quill pen is mightier Than the sword you drop
- Posts: 856
- Joined: Wed Sep 16, 2009 1:32 am
- Hyperception
- Ramen
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2007 2:54 pm
- Location: University of Florida History Department
Under the pressure of my lovely Harper, here is my humble entry. I approached this as TC's (or perhaps SRD's) thoughts regarding Linden.
When first I woke and rose to greet the morn
(No: lay earth-bound refusing to awake)
The wise who dream regarded me with scorn
For naught I knew of what might be at stake.
In truth I felt bereft of love and light
To be a soul so pitiful and mean
Confronted by an energy so white
That no baleful cloud could drift in between.
Loath was she to part with words of sorrow
On lips still pursed to give a breath thus free
And trembling still await 'til the morrow
For final confrontation patiently.
Eschew now yon soft-skinned and sleek houri
And leave my fate to Linden Avery.
When first I woke and rose to greet the morn
(No: lay earth-bound refusing to awake)
The wise who dream regarded me with scorn
For naught I knew of what might be at stake.
In truth I felt bereft of love and light
To be a soul so pitiful and mean
Confronted by an energy so white
That no baleful cloud could drift in between.
Loath was she to part with words of sorrow
On lips still pursed to give a breath thus free
And trembling still await 'til the morrow
For final confrontation patiently.
Eschew now yon soft-skinned and sleek houri
And leave my fate to Linden Avery.
Last edited by Hyperception on Tue Oct 13, 2009 10:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Caedite omnes, Deus eius cognoverit.
~Pope Innocent III, said during the Albigensian Crusade (1209–29).
~Pope Innocent III, said during the Albigensian Crusade (1209–29).
- wayfriend
- .
- Posts: 20957
- Joined: Wed Apr 21, 2004 12:34 am
- Has thanked: 2 times
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We done, Hyperception.
No doubt your Harper posed as muse.
Your skill evinced for all to see.
But surely will she collect her dues.
She covets gold more than poecy.
No doubt your Harper posed as muse.
Your skill evinced for all to see.
But surely will she collect her dues.
She covets gold more than poecy.
Last edited by wayfriend on Mon Oct 12, 2009 9:46 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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- Dread Poet Jethro
- My quill pen is mightier Than the sword you drop
- Posts: 856
- Joined: Wed Sep 16, 2009 1:32 am
- hue of fuzzpaws
- <i>Haruchai</i>
- Posts: 616
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2007 11:18 am
Shadow fingers slip through your ill used flesh
And with my maddened glee I taste your woe.
Yours is the bouquet that is enmeshed
By my pleasure. I look back long ago
To see the fruits that brought forth their juice
To stain such fragile flesh. Blood dripping down,
Staining it’s richness to a black noose
Made by hollow expectations. A crown
Fashioned and hidden within your hair.
As the dark queen you bring forth the power
To punish. As you march to a fanfare
And add another stone to that tower
All hail to Linden Avery, my image formed
by lesser hungers and by my touch, warmed.
And with my maddened glee I taste your woe.
Yours is the bouquet that is enmeshed
By my pleasure. I look back long ago
To see the fruits that brought forth their juice
To stain such fragile flesh. Blood dripping down,
Staining it’s richness to a black noose
Made by hollow expectations. A crown
Fashioned and hidden within your hair.
As the dark queen you bring forth the power
To punish. As you march to a fanfare
And add another stone to that tower
All hail to Linden Avery, my image formed
by lesser hungers and by my touch, warmed.
"Let's not fight. I don't like fighting" Frostheart Grueburn
- Hyperception
- Ramen
- Posts: 78
- Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2007 2:54 pm
- Location: University of Florida History Department
- hue of fuzzpaws
- <i>Haruchai</i>
- Posts: 616
- Joined: Mon Sep 10, 2007 11:18 am
Shadow fingers slip through your ill used flesh
And with my mad glee I taste your woe.
Yours is the bouquet that is ripe and fresh
For my pleasure. I travel back and know
Which seeds that fruited their staining juice
Upon your fragile flesh. Blood dripping down,
Soaking it’s red richness to a black noose
Made by hollow expectations. A crown
Fashioned and hidden within your hair.
As the dark queen you bring forth the power
To punish. As you march to a fanfare
And add another stone to that tower
All hail to Linden Avery, my image formed
by lesser hungers and by my touch, warmed.
And with my mad glee I taste your woe.
Yours is the bouquet that is ripe and fresh
For my pleasure. I travel back and know
Which seeds that fruited their staining juice
Upon your fragile flesh. Blood dripping down,
Soaking it’s red richness to a black noose
Made by hollow expectations. A crown
Fashioned and hidden within your hair.
As the dark queen you bring forth the power
To punish. As you march to a fanfare
And add another stone to that tower
All hail to Linden Avery, my image formed
by lesser hungers and by my touch, warmed.
"Let's not fight. I don't like fighting" Frostheart Grueburn