These poems were beautifully written by Rollinscat for an Ilsarean event that went in to the [lore]Broken Halls[/lore]. Thanks to him for providing the flavor for this trek.
Author: Talise Al'thyn, 416
In the rough lands it is kill or be killed
Healing voice weak to necessity's blade
Mountains and plains as savage as man
Little heed to a tender heart paid
Carnesîr fights in a bloodless campaign
A foothold for a message of peace
There is no peace in the bowls of survival
Words fall unheeded until they cease
Life's light a candle in dark heavy winds
Shelter a laugh from the gutter of souls
The best that is hoped for is brutal and short
Slowly the heart slips away from the goal
Shattered, broken, hope's head on a stick
He drags one foot in front of the other
Children of Xi-Lo-Sung scattered together
Welcome him home like a brother
Broken circles heal to a loop
Depths recede to tide's gentle pull
The past sliding off worn tired shoulders
Amarylla, the healer's heart is full
From fire-licked pit rises smoldering eyes
Claws touch the soil and claim it for self
The healer prays, sweating, for days and for nights
Aeridin grants just one wish to the elf
A seed left to grow under blunt demon nose
Amarylla still clings to the splintered mount's side
A shelter of minds and of hearts and of hope
Hidden by prayer from the land's bloody tide
Of Taurnil the healer nothing remains
His legacy bound to the god-given haze
Look when you pass and Amarylla may smile
Winking on full moons or mid summer days
Author: Unknown. Year: Unknown.
Love's consequence isn't always rose
Or embrace, but harsh repose
Bitter blows, the heart a scar of stitches – I'm sorry, dear
What once believed a thousandfold
Builds a wall of thorns and cold
Passion's hold, a grip slacked with each sparse apology
The leering of expectation's face
To know your duties and your place
Disgrace backhanded as reward when freedom calls
And more her people suffer, kin
Sisters to the pain she's in
Worn thin, tending animals worth more to men
Come then queen, flee or resist
But frozen, wilting under fist
To exist, and nothing more – every face with eyes on you
Fear's corset cinched from years obeyed
She kneels to pray for heaven's aid
In trade, a promise made, binding only her
History a leaden gown, but now -
She straightens, nevermore to bow
Neither sow nor beast to bear the sins of men
For mothers, daughters and kingdom-state
More than self, more than mate,
A date, she tells the man whose fist holds their reins
Tables covered with nature's spread
She reclines, waiting on their bed
And said, in silken tones for him - "Try the wine..."
Powder ground from love-pink bloom
Wets the lips of wine's perfume
He consumes, better to enjoy the lofty heights of royalty
Spinning head strikes marble seat
The cup lays bleeding at his feet
Conceit! He cries to halos that time the slowing of his beat
Pressed head to chest, to hear his end
A kiss for what had never been
And then, the promise of a new dawn on cooling flesh
The Queen Acanthe sits on her throne
A statue's perfect face, alone
Tears sown, and grown in place a stronger crop – the Daughters of Windwyn
Author: Ari Anamithal eo Tyailmcla, 231
Love needs no curves to form a heart
Not silken skin or powdered face
But two minds of understanding
Longing to entwine, embrace
I would bear winter on my back for you
Twice as wrong, you and I
For pride I stand aside
Praying this war folds before the gods scoop you up
As a hand of cards, played
Still we meet - to talk, you say
Of politics and peace
It is not peace that brings me here
We carry each other's burdens, oxen of ill-timed release
And bend to meet each other's eyes
What will we do when the excuses break
Brittle thin branches in the storm
We can only go where the winds say to go
Or walk forever in one place...
Could I forget?
Peel you from me to don armor and shield
So we can pace our well-worn grooves
On opposites sides of this battlefield?
I would have better luck holding back the sky
It matters so much and so little
The shape of your ears, the length of your life
Our people at war and all I can think
When will I see you again
We are finally blown together
Reason tossed aside, a cloak on a summer day
The beginning of our end in this sweet madness
Over and over we sneak away
And pretend we're not falling down a well
They follow, flush with coin from my wife's hand
Each with a reason to see us dead
But I am her power and I am not one of you
It is not I who does not arrive in our spot
But I who finds you here, and there, so careless
Not even tears can survive my rage
They will bend but no more will break
The battle plays out on every stage
But here there will be peace
Our passion laid you under ground
A victim of woman scorned and the greedy eyes of family
Leaving me to kneel here, alone
Carving out your memory on stone that will not feel
The blood of elf and man
*the following appears to be a rubbing from carved stone*
Ceela silnala ilcc sal ahyilc
