Lone Poem

It’s a place you come to,
When you’re all alone,
Staring into the spaces of darkest hue,
Listening to voices’ desperate tone,

Just you and your thoughts,
Nothing to come between,
And your heart screams at a thousand watts,
You’re far away from all that you dream,

As you write with a consuming fire,
Your pen scratches paper,
Your patience long ago began to tire,
Your excuses finally taper,

Until there’s nothing more,
And you just write out the rest,
Leaving your core,
Gazing for hope alighting from the west,

Yet it never begins on the outside,
You have to breathe life,
Old wounds gaping open wide,
Fear of truth cutting like a knife,

The bare essence of being,
The nakedness of existence,
The blindness; which comes with seeing,
The battle with internal resistance,

Forces inside unwilling to change,
Fighting for a feeble cause,
The new way is frightening; strange,
Learning a new set of strictures and laws,

Finding your way back,
To who you should be,
Content with that which you lack,
Yearning to forever be free,

It’s a place we’ve never been,
Only thought of; not felt,
Searching for fields of green,
Beyond this bleeding belt....

Enough

All men have desire
All men have passion
But what do they want; what is their inspire?
What is it that makes them glow in such carnal fashion?

We are creatures base
We all want something we can’t attain
That which is just beyond our taste
As we keep on through the shrouded rain

But what if we stopped to suddenly ponder
What is it that we yearn?
What makes us through this barren world wander?
What is it, which causes our stomachs, our hearts, our very souls burn?

Why do we for so long blindly flail?
Why is it that we search for some kind of confirmation?
Of who we are and the reasons we let our warships set sail?
What is this foul demon that keeps man from his elation?

Perhaps it isn’t even demon or Satan spawn
Perhaps it truly is only he
Wrestling with himself despite the dawn
Keeping him from everything his God wants him to be

Even when he sees the truth,
He still finds a place in his heart where he is discontent
A place that is ruled by carnal claw and tooth,
He does the only thing he can: he kneels to repent

So here he is; humbly wrong
He knows he’s been wayward
But he needs you to help him be strong
For he knows his thoughts are as fleeting as a bird

He wants to come back to the fold
And feel your loving embrace
Because out they’re the world is heartless and cold
Jesus; I’m begging you; show me some of your amazing grace.

Long Time No Post

To those who are reading this
Or not :)

Since I have not posted in the longest
I'm gonna put up some poetry that I've written in the past few months.
Read em
Like em
If not
I don't want to know :)

May post later tonight
About entropy and such

Blessings be upon thee
Me


Un Penned Inc.

Forever
Staring at the blank page
Wondering if they’ll accept it

Forever
Fear haunting from the back
Mindful of the nameless

Forever
Searching for “home”
Falling short

Forever
Daised and confused
Soaking up the entropy

In ecstasy

With a stumble
A Fumble
A Tumble
And often a Grumble

Feeling the shudder of Earth
Truly
For the first time
Its massive bulk rotating
Reassuringly enormous under
Foot
Wheel
Whatever

So perhaps there is no

Forever

And perhaps there’s just

Tomorrow

A blank page...


Bent

The machine burns
It’s not satisfied
The machine always wants more
More will never be enough

We are products of the machine
Always searching
Never finding

Yet we seem content
With who the machine
Says we are
And who we should be
And whom we should associate with

We can sit here and lie to ourselves
About who we are
And why we are here
Yet all that ends up producing
Is broken people
Staring at themselves from both sides of every mirror

Dust in the wind
At the end of all things
Tossed about by the storm

By the songs, by the books and papers
By the “sages”, by the politicians,
By those we trust, and those we don’t

Because we’re all so vulnerable
Yearning for even the smallest scrap
Of control over our own domains
“Sad little kings
On sad little hills”

The more we know
The less we know

That’s the beauty of things
That something can come from nothing
Hope amidst chaos

Hope that nouns can “morph” into verbs
That ideas
And ideals
Would turn into action
That people; like you and I, would actually act on
What they claim to believe in

All we can do is hope
Maybe you say that I’m naiive
But I don’t think hope is
Irrelevant

And it doesn’t have to be deep
Because we don’t care if the machine
Thinks it’s not
Thinks we’re not

It doesn’t have to be deep
It’s hope

Instead of chains
Hope brings us
Wings...


Summit of Divide

Reclinin’,
I see the world around me dyin’,
There seems to be no silver linin’,
Urban sirens don’t stop cryin’,
Terrors of my generation’s authority defyin’,

Misunderstandin’
Name brandin’
Leads to gun handlin’,

There is no respect,
Black poetry fraught with angry words that inflect
Which some o’ my people say, “infect”
Rages of the poet: a defect,
How their daddies used to neglect,
So I flip on a track when I feel down; out; decked,
In essence; a testosterone inject

Yet I’m white,
I grew up in a town exclusively light,
Blacks kept virtually out of sight,
Who are really seen as everything that isn’t right,
No matter what my teachers’ try to tell me about Dr. King’s height,
I know Blacks here would get...do get...the brunt of Mr. Cold Shoulder’s bite,
Even with ghettos around in ten minute’s flight,
I feel unaware of the dark man’s plight,

So, should I be listening to his song?
Plugged into his tribulations all day strong,
Cuz my dad’s paycheck is more than five zeros long,
So if I’m a product of the suburbs
And I cry because of my trials
Does that make me wrong?

I’ve never even seen an ounce of crack,
Memories of a shootout I indeed lack
No parent’s bags I’ve seen packed,
I’ve never had to look behind my back,

But maybe I do everyday,
But it’s not because of bullets but what people say,
Despite all the times I kneel and pray,
There’s people I see pay,
For this country’s great dividing way,
I see them caught between two worlds, which hold sway,
Trying to be white; trying to be black, and all they can see is gray,

Well Uncle Sam, all I can
Think
No
All I can
Know
That this is all

Unfair,
I watch each side’s hateful glare,
It’s like every other conflicting pair,
So I listen to the rappers and hip-hoppers infuriated ware,
I know I will never breathe a black man’s air,
Or be able to know why he watches those that reject him with such an intense stare,

It makes me cry every time I hear his native people sing,
It also makes me cry when I realize the only real thing,
I know about Africa is what I saw in the Lion King,

I know how it feels to be different too though,
I too know what it means to be low,
Locked in prison with nowhere to go,
I know how it feels to rhyme as I feel a warm internal eternal glow,
A glow, which keeps me awake at night like Tupac or even Poe,
I yearn to inspire; awaken the average Joe,
So that he would know,
No longer be so slow,
As he reads along my flow,
Understanding why I put on this show,
For them and me it’s not about the dough,

It’s about
Recognition
Of our trials; our position,
So when we put our pen to paper; our key to the ignition,
We know that this isn’t a competition,

We both,
Have seen the Promised Land,
And are a part of a fellowship of poets holding their brothers by the hand,
We’re not quite running our fingers through God’s golden sand,

Yet we have
Hope and Faith
That we will say

“I have been to the mountaintop”
Yet even before we are there
We are already
As the song says

“Free at last
Free at last
Thank God Almighty
We are Free at last!”

Every man has his quest,
I see that each side will not rest,
But all we seem to want to know is who’s the best,
I know this is just a trial, God’s test,

We shall all overcome
Forever climbing the mountain’s crest...

Silverback Spines

Failed, yet Bailed

Monkeys on my back,
Needed to be thrown,
Like demons; they try to tell me what I lack,
Yet they have no right to talk to me in that tone,
For I am the Lord’s child,
I am protected, albeit by a tainted anointment,
Eventually I crack if they have enough piled,
Yet if something comes up; I’ll change my scheduled appointment,
As the snow fell,
I could feel the big chip embedded in my shoulder,
That monkey hurt so much I had to start ringing the bell,
I exhaled a deep breathe of chained smoke and a weight lifts off me by the boulder,
Something I had to prove,
Doesn’t matter who or what for,
I had to write something; whether it deserves to be in the Louvre,
So I wrote my own truth; a piece o my Lore,,
And it may not be perfect yet,
But at least I’ve won a certain battle,
I see those demons around me beginning to fret,
For every time I pray, hope, or love is a closer moment to their death rattle,
Yea, that’s right, I’m finally beginning to understand the true meaning of love,
Even if I completely miss the point at times,
My inspiration; my reason; my hope; comes from above,
How else could I write all this prose and jot all these rhymes?
I’m letting go of this world,
Or at least attempting to take a pass,
Though around some things my heart is still tightly curled,
But with Abba on my side, how long do you think that’ll last?
So today I vanquished a small foe,
Who knows what tomorrow shall bring,
Every day is a chance for my spirit to grow,
For the language of God I’m still learning to sing...


Jacob’s Ladder

Passage
He gripped her hand in his, though he knew that she was slipping into eternity. He tried to smile, but all he could manage was a slight upturn of his lips. Tears fell steadily from his face, impacting the bed sheets and quickly disappearing within them. He could feel the warmth ebbing from her fingers, so he gripped them more tightly, as if his life force would keep hers from departing.
Fiera’s piercing green eyes looked up into his, smiling as though she knew something that he did not.
“Jacob, you know there’s no use crying. Hell, you know better than anyone, I’d like to live, but this isn’t so bad. I need you to take care of Fian when I’m gone. I promised him I would take him to the Verge, and see if those rumors about Starvyrns are true.” Jacob tried to chortle, and instead choked in his tears, spluttering to get a hold of himself.
“I will, I promise, but it shouldn’t be like this.... it shouldn’t end like this. This is not supposed to happen, not to you. I’ve prayed, I’ve prayed! You’re supposed to be healed!” he seethed.
“You’re probably right. Nothing should be like it is. I should never have been born, I should never have met you, but I did. And I am blessed for it. My life hasn’t been perfect, but because of Fian and you, I’ve known love, I’ve known peace.” she said, her vibrant red hair shining with the sunlight that was spilling through the small hospice window.
“What good is love when it can’t save you? What good am I, when I can’t save you? Why can’t there be a miracle?”
“Jacob! This is not your fault. Don’t keep blaming yourself. There’s nothing you could have done.” she said, in the most authoritative tone her now frail body could muster.
“Yes there was, I could have prayed more. I could have had more faith. I could of-“
“You know better than I do, Jacob Tren, that miracles do not work like that. They occur if they will and they won’t if they shan’t. I don’t know why God let this happen to me, but it did. And it wasn’t your fault. It was nobody’s fault!”
At this, the young woman began to cough violently. Her whole frame rocked the bed back and forth several times. Jacob reached for the glass of water by her bedside, tenderly tipping it into her parched mouth.
“You shouldn’t strain yourself like that, Fiera. The doctors say that every time you do the Crystal Blaze that’s already in your body multiplies. You should rest-“ he was cut off in mid sentence by Fiera’s curt sigh.
“There is no time left to rest, bring Fian in.” She picked up the ancient Old Earth bible that was on her bedside table and handed it to the slightly older man.
“Never lose that.” she said emphatically, a glint in her eye drove a crescendo of peace that momentarily transcended all his feelings of guilt and loss. It was a look of love that traveled beyond all romance, all siblinghood, and all friendship. It was a look that Jacob Tren would keep close to his heart for the rest of his life.
Jacob could feel the sobs trembling up to the surface of his visage. Before he could say goodbye, he had slammed the door behind him. Tears flowed down his bearded cheeks, as he fell to the floor, clutching his Bible. He knew that was the last time he would ever see her; at least in this life.
Loss
Cold walls on all sides. Jacob woke with a fright, a frosty sweat beading down his numb body. Switching on the dim electric light above his bunk, his eyes swiveled around the room. He was used to star flight, so his eyes adjusted automatically to the abrupt light. His eyes rested momentarily on the bible wedged between the uneven floor plating of the Starblazer. He quickly turned away from the sight. He did not need that memory coming back again.
The man rose from his bed shakily, donning his usual white vest and leather jacket, which he had left lying on the floor the previous night. He picked up an aged wooden cross necklace Fiera had given him years ago. The strap was severed, and the cross was slightly battered. As if it pained him to look upon it, Jacob cursed bitterly, and stuffed it into his tattered jeans’ back pocket.
The door to his room whisked open, and the youthful Fian Fincook appeared before him. His freckled face and red hair shone brilliantly in the Solitaire’s lighting. Magnificently vivid blue eyes blinked, as he smiled exuberantly. Bedecked in the finest of satins that seemed to flow from his slender form like a waterfall, the youth of less than twenty years spoke.
“Jacob- we’ve just passed Thor, last planet before the Verge. It’s been three months I’ve waited for this- and we could be seeing Starvyrns in the next several hours.”
“Don’t get your hopes up, kid. We don’t even know if these things exist, let alone if we will be able to see one with all the space debris floating around here. You know how your sister was with all her fantastic stories, she always had her head in the clouds back home on Olympus.”
“That’s why you love her.” said the boy tentatively, his eyes glistening with tears that had been forthcoming as of late. Tren stopped for a split second, and looked straight at his friend, almost daring not to breath, holding the moment for as long as he could. His eyes darted away eventually. The memories were all too real.
“Yea,” he settled on “that’s why I love her...loved her.” Jacob said with finality.
“I’ll be on the bridge if you want to join me for the last few moments of our journey.” Fian changed the subject, not wishing to rub any more sore wounds regarding his sister for Jacob.
“I’d like that very much. I’ll meet you there in a few.” Fian’s boots clattered along the star traveling vessel, filling the Solitaire with a sound strangely reminiscent to that of church bells.
Jacob bent down to strap his boots around his calloused feet. He passed through the door and along the shaft-like hallway that connected his room with the bridge. The door to the bridge lay before him; its steel face seemed harsh and unmerciful. Even though he was twenty-five, Jacob felt a stab of fear enter his being. He had no idea what lay beyond that door. He fervently wished that Fiera’s myth would not lead to false hope for Fian. The boy had seen enough disappointment in his life.
Despite this sudden icy feeling, the man pushed it down and entered the bridge. Fian sat on one of the chairs that were fastened to the floor panels, his feet up on the vessel’s control desk. The Solitaire must be on autopilot, guessed Jacob.
The view panel stretched across the breadth of the room, jutting out with the ship’s nose slightly. Two stubby wings used for landing on turbulent planets were barely visible on each side.
Stars were above and below them, around them, over and under them, and flying past them. Small meteorites spun in space as they sped by, already they were “venturing the Verge” as it was known as throughout the Astral Realms.
Thor had passed below them moments before, it’s icy interior barely noticeable among all the fleeting suns.
The Starblazer began to slow as they neared the coordinates of several fabled sightings of Starvyrns. A star, which hung slightly to their left shone brightly, casting light and shadows over the asteroid field that littered this section of space. The two young men looked at each other. Jacob’s heart sank as he glimpsed the naiive optimism that shone in his companion’s eyes.
In some ways, it was going to be harder to turn back on his friend’s last dying wish when they inevitably would find only rocks and dust than it was losing her.
Jacob wondered if Fian would ever forgive him. He sat down beside Fincook, and followed his example, adjusting his legs across the control panel in mock assuredness.
If it were meant to be that Fiera’s dreams would die here, then he would sit with her brother and watch them fade. He was already beginning to lose hope. But he couldn’t. This was the last thing she had asked him to do. So he would keep searching, for Fian’s sake...for her sake.
Tren could not count the hours that both he and Fian spent staring out into the blackness. Seldom did they speak, each almost drowning in the proverbial sea of thoughts and memories they each had that were trying to brim to the surface.
It was almost eight hours later that Fian’s head rested on his friend’s broad shoulder, his slender chest rising up and down in discontented sleep. Jacob tried to keep his eyes open and his head from titling to one side, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Even his eyelashes had begun to ache. The tiniest shift in shadow caught the corner of his eye, and his whole head swerved, his cheek bumped against Fian’s red hair. The youth awoke, startled, and then looked to where Jacob was frantically pointing.
A distant wing flapped from a crater within a spiraling asteroid. Two crushed hearts leaped simultaneously. Her truth would be revealed.

***

The wooden door of the hospice room creaked open. Jacob Tren already knew what had happened, as the slim silhouette of Fian Fincook shuffled into the reception room dejectedly.
Jumping up from the seat he had been praying, crying, and sitting upon, the man ran behind a pillar. Fian could not see him like this. Not yet. Fiera had asked him to protect her younger brother, and he would do just that. Even from seeing his own pain.
Tears, which stung his eyes with their heat, trickled along his brown beard. These were no longer tears of pity and pain, but tears of rage. He breathed heavily and rapidly; a feeling of outright betrayal gripped his very heart and soul.
He violently ripped the necklace from his neck, and flung it on the floor in a seemingly childish temper. If God would not listen to him, he was done listening to God. He had prayed, he had obeyed, and in return, Fiera, a friend that he had cherished from the very bottom of his heart, had died. Now, he swore, his faith had died too. How could you believe when all that you tried to do ultimately avails to nothing? When love avails to nothing, what is the point of having faith in the mirage?
Then he stopped his racing mind, and heard the sobs that emanated from behind the pillar. Fian’s cries ricocheted off the walls, ceiling, and floor like an anguished banshee. His parents, and now his beloved sister; gone- just like that, just two years apart.
He was all alone in this world. Not if Jacob had anything to say about it. He would carry out Fiera’s last wish, he still had that much love left in him. Jacob Tren walked towards his kneeling, sobbing friend. Fian gazed up from his aggrieved stupor, snot and tears streaming from every orphus on his face.
“The doctors said the Blaze Crystal content from that asteroid she had the accident on were rising too high in all her veins. They tried to save her...she fought for months...” the boy could not complete his sentence, and fell into another bout of uncontrolled splutters and moans.
Jacob forcibly pulled the boy by the shoulders into a standing position facing him. Pulling Fian towards his broad chest, he fiercely hugged him. Despite the shirt he was wearing, his chest became soaking wet in the first few moments. They stood that way for what seemed hours. They sobbed into one another, oblivious to any passing traffic.
Eventually, there were no tears they could cry anymore. Both men could not sustain any more; at least not for now, their eyes dry and red.
“Well, pack your belongings. We’re taking a ride in my Starblazer, the Solitaire.” said Jacob matter-of-factly.
“Why?” asked Fian
“We’re going to search for those Starvyrns of Fiera’s.”
“I couldn’t think of a better send off for her. We always promised each other as kids, if one of us couldn’t, the other would find them. Thank you.” Fian weakly smiled.
Hope
“I knew it, I knew it! I knew she was right! Good ole’ Fiera! Never could prove her wrong!” Fian shouted, jumping up and down in an excited fervor.
Jacob Tren couldn’t even bring himself to open his mouth. It seemed his throat had closed and all the saliva in his mouth had dissipated. Even if he could speak, he would not have been able to find the words to describe all the emotions he was feeling. The sight was too beautiful, too terrible, too profound, and now obviously too inevitable for him to fully understand.
The wing flapped experimentally in the starlight, and then pushed off with a force that Jacob could feel cause a tremble that rolled straight through his gut.
Like the dragons of Old Earth’s ancient lore, the Starvyrn was indeed a sight to behold. Two wings that must have had a forty-meter wingspan flapped on seemingly nothing. There were obviously no air currents that the creature could logically fly upon. But, Jacob had just ceased to believe in logic.
The body was the same color as the asteroids, a mottled brownish gray, which both the humans assumed to be used for camouflage, but they both couldn’t even conceive what the magnificent beast could be hiding from, other than man.
Muscles rippled all the way along the Starvyrn’s chest and stubby limbs, which were tucked expertly underneath its girth. Leathery skin gave way to horns and spines that glinted off the sun’s light like a hundred phoenix alighting all at once on a cloudless day. Its eyes shone with the strength of a thousand moons, icy light blue irises cascading over dark blue pupils. The Starvyrn’s mouth opened, and Jacob felt as though he was hearing music on a harp being played for the very first time.
Even though the two travelers were in an airtight vehicle, they were still able to hear every inflection and tone in the animal’s song. The serenaded lasted over an hour, as the Starvyrn looped, twisted, dodged, and barreled through the asteroid starscape. As the creature sang its song and flew- if that’s what one would call it- it seemed to release a vibrant energy that seemed to resound around the whole area. The sun, to the asteroids, even the smallest and seemingly insignificant grains of dust, seemed to be alive with the joy of the Starvyrn’s life force.
Though haunting and seemingly from an age gone by, the song held a hint of triumph that was bursting forth; despite the struggle, despite the pain. In a place that seemed to be barren, abandoned, and lonesome, the animal was letting go of itself and tapping into the ebb and flow of the universe.
For the first time in months, Jacob began to realize what he had truly lost. He turned to Fian, who had tears flowing down his cheek, a dazed smile spread across his features. Tren could not help himself; he too began to weep with the joy of letting Fiera, letting a part of himself go. Yet, he was not truly letting her be claimed by past memories, he was letting go of all the rage, all the bitterness, all the sadness he had been feeling. It was replaced by a feeling of blessing, blessing to have had her as a friend, despite its brevity, and blessing to enjoy such a magnificent sight with such a close friend.
Jacob could feel a smile spreading across his face, rising from a sense of exuberance that had been building within his chest, within his very being. Breaths of life were erupting from within him, and he found himself laughing with the sheer absurdity of the rut in which his mind had become accustomed to operating in.
“How do you think it works?” he said.
“What works?”
“You know- well, how do you think he flies?” he asked.
“Does it matter?” Fian was also beginning to laugh.
Tension that had been rising between them, despite their unity in grief, began to fade, what was left was a feeling of contentment with each other. It was a feeling of knowing exactly what the other one was thinking, without even having to say it, just by looking at the person from a certain angle, they could be certain that each had faith in the other, each could trust one another. That peace, which is closest word we have for the state of mind, was what they each had held for Fiera. A peace that Fiera had left them with, which they had not been noticing until that point.
Only then did Jacob realize the real reason why Fiera had sent the two that she had loved most in the world on a journey to find this mythical, beautiful, joyous diamond in the rough. It had been to find answers, it had been to find the truth. The truth, which had lain within them all along.
“She sent us here on purpose. She told me to protect you, but perhaps she meant for you to protect me.” He said, epiphanies trickling from his mind like a continuous stream. At this, Fian started giggling almost manically, like a geyser expelling all trace of waste.
“Funny, she told me to protect you as well.” He said. Jacob already had guessed she had said something like that to Fian. He loved her for it.
A long pause, interrupted only by intermittent chuckles from both sides of the bridge, ensued. Fian finally broke the silence.
“So, where should we go from here?” asked Fian, gaining control, at least slightly, of his giggles.
“I have no idea. I don’t think anyone does. All I know is, we’ll go where we’re meant to.”
Jacob Tren reached into his back pocket for the cross and string, and pulled it out. He tied it around his neck. He looked above him at a point in the ceiling. Jacob smiled the biggest smile he had yet to smile.
Where we’re meant to...

For Auld Lang Syne

Bright Syne

New Year,
Same old tear,
Of all the seasons to pass,
The tired winds whistle through the same grass,
Nothing is new under the moon,
No hearty song; no melancholy tune,
No romance,
No second chance,
Yet,
I bet,
The breath on the wind has a new voice,
That tells us to rejoice,
That says we’ve made it through the storm,
A new chapter to this book is being born,
One the heralds of old have sung,
With all flute and lung,
As a phoenix from long ago,
The ancient rivers are again going to flow,
The changing of the guard,
A fifth suite of card,
The dawn of spring,
A completion in the cycle of the ring,
For we never gave up,
And we never fell to that ever-tempting cup,
As warriors we stood,
Even if we have slipped from good,
But now we have a glint in our eyes,
A burning bond that ties,
Intertwines,
And finds,
We aren’t at the end,
Merely at another bend,
From the ground to the sky to the sea,
A gust is coming that will let us see,
Let us truly be,
Set us free!

Moonsight

Ghosts of the past,
Haunt solitary corridors,

Letters from loves gone by,
Of wistful lips kissed beneath the blue sky,

Breeze that flutters
Lack luster

Curtains,
Memories gently drift to the surface

Pianos play softly in the back,
Melancholic epiphanies begin to crack,

Aged men left all alone,
All those they cared for have passed,

Masters looking for something more,
Before they step beyond eternity’s door,

Tears fill distant gray eyes,
Reminiscing on times gone by,

Yet they never truly found a home,
Their bound spirits forever doomed to roam,

Beyond the open windows,
Rain begins to spill upon the lawn,

The pianist concludes his song of somber,
The elder; outcast and misfit; there no longer....

Always Protects, Always Trusts, Always Hopes, Always Perseveres

Ariel Fifty-One

Yea, I did it again,
Yea, I stepped over the line,
Poison dripped from my battered pen,
I ignored every warning and sign,

I’m such a fathead,
And was proved in the wrong,
I wish I hadn’t said all the things I’ve said,
My faith is none too strong,

Yet I’m reminded every time I fall,
Of the reasons I was put on this green earth,
Still rolling on the Road to Damascus like Paul,
Scrabbling in the sludge of slipping self worth,

Though I’ve finally carved a way,
I’ve finally found those I can trust,
No longer alone beyond the fray,
Though of the Life Bread I’ve barely licked the crust,

Yahweh provides,
Sending what I need,
Brothers and Sisters at my sides,
Cleansing my twisted creed,

Even when I try to turn my back,
And ignore my Fathers’ wisdom,
He has faith that I’ll get the knack,
Forgiving me in his holy princedom,

I asked, he gave,
I wept, he was there,
I was lost, he whispered in my troubled cave,
I was blind, he sent me a friend with a prayer,

How could I doubt?
How could I stumble?
For so long all I could do was curl up into a ball and pout,
Now I’m part of that prophetic rumble,

He is the God of Love,
He forgives all foolish notions,
Even if I’m confused by things above,
Filling me with the only true emotions,


Though the flesh is unwilling,
When the spirit descends,
I realize all my senseless time killing,
He gives me the grace to make amends,

For I must always be changing,
He will not let go until he rocks my complacency,
Always churning; always re-arranging,
Challenging all the laws of “decency”,

I know I’m never alone,
For my God is all around,
My songs will have a sweet tone,
And my joy will never cease to abound...

Draconis Bonus

October Skies, Sober Cries

Red dawn ascending,
Battered warrior of the night,
Spreads tattered wings; preparing for flight,
Bringing light to a land in desperate need of mending,

Letting loose a cry of defiance,
To a world ruled by bondage and stone,
Except for the seeds that refused to be left unsown,
Destined to form a loving alliance,

Even when the prince of flame,
Felt alone and his fire spluttering into mere embers,
And the ache consumed him more than all cold Decembers,
Warmth came to him that was beyond name,

The wind brought joy,
Beyond all contemplation,
Deeper than just minor elation,
Or what an easy victory could deploy,

For even though the darkness will,
Come creeping back,
Draco has his pack,
And they’ll all be waiting for it on the other side of the hill,

So this is why the dragon,
Roars to the twilight,
As Lore of Bravery engulfs all fright,
And a mountain of Goods fills every wagon,

That is the song of the winged one,
Beaten down yet triumphant,
Unsatisfied with Earthly comfort,
As he awaits the coming of the Son....

Door Knob, Revelation Throb

A letter to a friend, no not like that ;)...............

Jennie,
I was going to say what I’m gonna say right now to you in person, but I feel it’s better if I write it, so its clearer, and I don’t leave anything important out. Plus, it would take me longer than a lunch period to tell you. I’ve prayed about this, and I feel that God has put you, Elena, and Laurel in my life for a reason, you girls have given me a lot of hope in the past few months when I thought I was fed up with certain circumstances. I was reading Ecclesiastes 4 (hope that’s right) the other day, and its says “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up, But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up....(don’t mind the next verse...it has nothing to do with what I want to say ;))....Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. (here’s the best part) A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” Sorry to like preach to you, but those couple of verses really struck a cord with me. (no pun intended) Cords that are plugged into Abba, into God. The problem is, I’ve been feeling unplugged (not all the time but much of the time) from God a lot of the time for several months, and I want to be connected to Him again, because that’s what it means to truly live.
This week my internet has been disabled for some reason (I think God had something to do with it maybe.... not to sound crazy...but.) it’s put my life into some perspective. I spend my whole life talking to people online, and what for? Except talking to people like Lore (Laurel) and you guys, most people don’t talk about anything. It’s just this void, and they’re all searching for something, yet not really listening to anyone when they try and tell them what it is they lack. Chatting online is not really even talking to people, it’s talking to a machine, a cold, soulless hunk of metal. That’s not really living, I was just “hiding in my bedroom”. So...yea, I’m tired of it. I want to live, and not just sit my fat ass (beg your pardon) in front of the computer my entire life. :) I want to live, and not for me, but for God, Burning for him always.
Ok (I apologize that this is taking sooo long, but here is why I’m telling you this) On Friday, when I was listening to you and Lorin talk, I should have been blessed to know that you had persuaded an unbeliever to enter the temple of the lord, and happy that she has the opportunity to tap into Him, but I was not. I feel horrible that I wasn’t, and bad that I just rolled away...like I always do.
It just reminded me of the fact that most of the brothers and sisters at my church left. (The one I was closest to left for KC a couple of years ago (before I truly accepted God) because he was called to hardcore prayer over there....but the rest of them just left for petty reasons...and I haven’t seen or spoken to them in six months....and I kind of miss them) Sorry to bitch to you (again, excuse my unchristian language), but right after they had a fight (don’t ask me what it was about...I have no clue, nor do I care) (sorry, little bitter) at the place where I used to go to a kinship group (obviously I no longer go,) I was feeling pretty disillusioned and then, I made friends with you guys. “Like freedom in the spring.” (I keep on quoting Switchfoot songs, I have issues......) Just before school ended last year, I was talking to Lore about Abba...and for the first time in like three months my burn for him ignited again, and I have been gradually able to let go of other stuff because of you guys, so I just wanted to say that I’m really blessed to have you guys as friends.
I’m just tired of being connected to God where its all plumcakes and daffodils, and then being brutally disconnected when I remember the fact that my church.... is.... dying and there are like no people our age there...never were really.... and I’m sorry to give you a list of my problems. and type it out....it was just easier than trying to tell you all at once.....I’m just tired of being alone for most of my life, I wanna live, I guess......and not be selfish and bitter half the time....I want to have such unrestrained joy that I am saved that I set others around me afire with the knowledge....the wisdom....the good news! I don’t want you to pity me, I just.... want to change some things in my life, and I’d be blessed if you could help me.
I want to be like my spiritual brother in KC...Always thinking on God, striving to be better than who he was, who I am. There was this fortune cookie I had during the summer, and it said “Don’t let others open doors for you.” So, I guess I’m turning the knob. Anyway, thanks for listening to my rant, I dunno if you can help me...but.....”gotta have faith.....”
Blessed to love you as a Sister,
Dave

Ecclesiastes + Bullshit = Depression

girls please....u don't want to read this one

Putting it Bluntly

All seem to have sailed,
All seem to have waved,
All seem to have been saved,
All seem to have bailed,

And I’m still waiting here,
I’m still waiting for my ship,
I’m still waiting as frost decays my lip,
I’m still waiting gripped by my own fear,

Watching as the wind blows,
Watching as I tear myself apart,
Watching as nothing will ever start,
Watching as the world just goes,

So I weep because I love,
I weep because I’m left in the dust,
I weep because I can’t quell the lust,
I weep because I’m unplugged from above,

Even when I pray I feel starved,
I pray but feel Odo,
I pray but feel as lost ad the Dodo,
I pray yet I feel so emotionally carved,

I don’t know where to run,
I don’t know where all my brothers have gone,
I don’t know when’s the next dawn,
I don’t know if I won’t end it all with a gun,

I can’t take them anymore,
I can’t take their shit,
I can’t take even one more little bit,
I can’t take how they’re all rotten to the core,

I need friends,
I need brothers,
I need others,
I need no more dead ends,

All my efforts have gotten me nowhere,
All my efforts have just fallen,
All my efforts just leave me crawlin’,
All my efforts get trampled in the Fair,

I’ve fought for too long,
I’ve fought too hard,
I’ve fought with every card,
I’ve fought to sing my song,

All I get is rejection,
All I get is disappointment,
All I get is the same ointment,
All I get is “leave me alone” and I’m left in reflection,

Fuck it!
Fuck it, I can’t take the pain,
Fuck it, there is never any gain,
Fuck this shit!

Sacred Streets of September

Tomorrow marks the last chapter of the Hills,
The beginning of the end,
Some wounds I’ve gotten here will never mend,
Often jostled by people’s wills,

When I entered high school that day so long ago,
I was a mere child,
But something on these pavements got me riled,
Filling me with a fire that burns until I sow,

I found pain here,
I found faith,
I finally found where I felt safe,
Away from the shattered silver tear,

I look back on these years of four,
No longer the boy rolling over the threshold,
Cruelly taught by hearts and souls so cold,
Feeling like the Beat Knights of Lore,

Constantly being trampled,
But never giving up,
Reaching for the brimming gold cup,
Writing verses from my heart I gambled,

Enthralled by Abba’s intricate weave,
Trying to let him rule,
Because that’s what it truly means to be cool,
So that they see Him through me before I leave,

Yet how will they when many won’t even listen?
How will they when they turn their backs?
And I’m reminded of all the things my life lacks,
A place to call my temple has not yet been risen,

It seems that everyone knows my name,
They all are “close”,
Yet all I am to them is a ghost,
And when I try and reach out all I feel is shame,

They lock their gates,
All I see is cold hard stone,
That Rocks me to the bone,
For I must combat their deep hates,

With Love as my shield,
I’ll show them a better way,
He’ll tell me of the words to say,
Then I shall depart from this war-torn field,

I’ll be able to leave it behind,
Breaking all the chains,
Eroding the old pains,
Sailing away to find my own kind....

Someponder

Quest of the Last Year

A new day,
Or is it?
A different way,
Or another bad fit?
A victorious charge,
Or a brutal battle?
Blessings in large,
Or my death rattle?
The light at the end grows,
Or is it more faint?
Only the angels know,
Or are they not as they are paint?
Questions will be laid to rest,
Yet could more be raised?
I will finish this twelve-year test,
Will I not be completely crazed?
Fear I pray will be trampled,
Yet will terror grip my chest?
A taste of a new life sampled,
Yet will it be like all the rest,
I will venture boldly into the world,
But will I stay afloat,
I refuse to end up in Allie’s curled,
Will all these demons be smote?
Something in me is burning bright
Or is it just a frail grope?
I have found and will hold the one true light,
For it, He, is my only hope....
There is no question in that!

BurnT

Elation,
Always followed by frustration,
Blocking,
My path and mocking,
Searching,
Finding nothing except this impatient lurching,
Caught,
Inside something you thought you had already fought,
Enraged,
In a vicious battle engaged,
Fighting,
My demons through my writing,
Lust,
Yet knowing patience is a must,
Happy,
Yet always feeling slightly crappy,
Barred,
Yet gripping my lucky card,
Battered,
In the gutter many dreams have lain shattered,
Blocked,
Yet I remember God who had me rocked,
Forsaken,
Praying for the Tribes to awaken,
Sad,
Then when I think of it I am mad,
Dead,
Yet I’ve been to places demons fear to tread,
Unplugged,
Yet seeing that I am still loved,
Astray,
So I kneel and I pray,
Heal,
So that I truly feel,
Burn,
As I learn,
Burn,
As I turn,
Burn,
As I yearn....

Alliterate

Battered Band of Believers,
Whispering a Wordless Wonder,
Forsaking Fear for Faith,
Jumping with the Jubilee of Jesus,
Seeking Solace from Seductive Sin,
Alighting Atheist Alters,
Praying for Partitions’ Perish,
Living Laughing Love,
Courage of Clarity through Clamorous Chord,
Gathering Grace Gleefully,
Happy Hope for Heavenly Hugging,
Tapping into Terrible Truth,
Evil Enticing Even till End,
Yes, Yahweh! we Yell,
Righteous Rock of Rapture,
Victory will Vanquish all Vicious Visions...

Awe Gust

I look to each side of the road,
On one a brother gone,
On the other; a sister lost,
Behind me I carried a heavy load,
Ahead an uncertain dawn,
All around me is covered with a slumbering frost,
I’ve known too much rejection,
There are too many entries in my Diary of Pain,
Walls must be crumbled,
I’ve seen too many come with correction,
I will no longer refrain,
Until all the clans are humbled,
So I ask for more hands,
For more minds, spirits, souls,
Send an angel to my side,
So that we can teach to all the lands,
Until that day when the last bells toll,
But we must not hide,
We will work in the ways of the Lord,
We will wait on our Father,
Praying for the fallen,
We shall never be bored,
His kingdom is worth our bother,
Because of his Grace we are no longer Saulin’...

It's Only Just Begun

(photo compliments of the BBC)

Fine Illusion

Wake up!
Wake up ye masses!
You who sit idly by and watch!
While the world falls before you!

Pass the cup!
Get off your asses!
All you do is blame others for this botch!
Well, it’s our fault too!

We just stand here and do nothing!
As governments around us crumble!
We are too fearful to act!
But we must pick up the torch!

My generation, you who are looking for something!
Heedless to the thunders’ rumble!
Blind to countless cities sacked!
As armies’ feet pound on our porch!

So what are we to do you ask!
Who are we to trust?
Who will save us?
Who can we put our faith in?

And I tell you; this is our task!
Before the bombs turn us all to dust!
Some seem to have found what we all someday must!
Some have found their kin!

They are at peace!
Amidst this world in chains!
They pray for our souls!
They pray for their sons and daughters who are still enticed!

For they will not rest until we fly like geese!
Until the last car bomb ceases to plague the lanes!
We must come up out of our respective holes!
They wait for us to find our savior, our Christ!

The Plot Thickens (Chapters Nine and Ten)

Chapter Nine
Stairs! Liam hated stairs. Ebony and he were inside the inn, staring up at the twenty odd flights.
“So, explain to me again why you sit inside a wheelbarrow?” said Rune quizzically.
“For the hundredth time it’s a wheelchair, and I have no legs, so I need it.” Liam replied, realizing these people had no concept of a disability.
“Was it in battle?”
“No, in childbirth, are you insane, a battle? I’m only sixteen!” Rune look perplexed at this, and the boy realized that if he had lived in this society he would have been fighting as soon as he could walk...or at least talk.
“It must be fun, though, to whiz around in that thing all day. We should race sometime!” said a man at the table a few feet away.
“Yea...its so fun, we can cut your legs off and then strap you in one...and you’ll have a blast!” shot back Liam, wiping the stupid grin off the man’s face. It seemed that not everything was different on this side of the Bridge.
“So...how are we going to get you up these steps? I can carry you up, if you don’t mind.” interjected Rune.
“Actually, I do mind. Can I sleep down here?” replied Liam, unwilling to have his blood spill onto the stone
steps.
Rune conceded, and went to collect some mattresses from the upstairs rooms. Ebony wordlessly sat at one of the tables, not much of a companion. She polished her gun menacingly. The guards had left hours ago, and Liam and Ebony had eaten their meals here.
Moonlight could be seen rising through the windows, and darkness began to creep over Trilth. The last of the late night diners left. Ebony and Liam sat all by themselves. The only light was that of the roaring fire by the bar, warming the inn from the wintry elements.
“So...you like it here?” asked Liam, attempting to start a conversation. Ebony just looked at him, then continued with her gun caressing.
“I do, though I wouldn’t want to live here. I mean, first of all, it’s completely inaccessible. Secondly, nobody believes in the Fae, I mean what’s up with that? It’s like the government is trying to lie to the people. Cover up the truth. And I thought on our side it was bad. D’you know-“
“Do you know, that you talk too much.” said Ebony.
“There...I knew you could talk! Out of our little hole are we?” Ebony rose at Liam’s comment, fed up with human interaction. Without a word, she headed for the stairs. Bounding up to the top level, she left the boy all alone.
“Typical female.” he muttered under his breath. Rune came back down, and placed mattresses beside him.
“I see your lady friend took her leave of you.”
“Yea...though she’s not really my friend. I just met her last night. We’re just looking for the same thing.”
“What is that?”
“Answers.” replied Liam vaguely, not wishing to get into yet another discussion about the existence of the Fae.
“Where ya from?”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“Try me.” said Rune, a knowing look in his eyes.
“Beyond the Bridges...to the place your people call Neverbin.” Rune froze with the pillow he was about to plunk down, shocked.
“I thought such a place did not exist.”
“Neither does anyone else in this village. Yet you don’t seem as close-minded to the idea as the others.”
“That is because I’ve been a witness to...things...that should not have happened, beings that defy all logic.”
“Fae?” asked Liam.
“Fae. We cannot talk now, the hour grows late. Just, whatever you do, do not tell my daughter of such things. She’s too young.” begged Rune. He turned back up the steps, leaving Liam perplexed. Rune has a daughter? Why didn’t he want her knowing of the Fae? Thoughts swirled around in Liam’s head as he slipped from his wheelchair to the floor. Laying his head upon the pillow, Liam’s cold blue eyes stared into the fire.
Two worlds seemed to weigh heavily upon his shoulders. Liam was confused, scared, and did not know who he could trust. Good thing he had been in high school for the past two and a half years. Otherwise, he’d be in completely uncharted territory.



Chapter Ten
Flair crept into the inn, lightly stepping towards the stairs. The flames in the fireplace had faded to embers hours before, leaving the room pitch black. Her half Vanish eyes were the only thing that kept her from knocking over the scattered tables and chairs. She had spent all night in the forest among the other Vanish girls. Her limbs were sore from all the tree jumping.
A floorboard creaked ominously. The young girl stopped dead in her tracks. Hearing nothing from Rune’s room above, she continued. She vaguely remembered him saying something about going out somewhere. Grabbing the rickety wooden railing, she began to climb the staircase.
“Who are you?” came a voice that she had heard many times before. Alaric? Inside the inn? Thinking of nothing but protecting her friend, she focused on one of her hands. A ripple, similar to the one she had created at lunchtime, emanated from her palm, and a fireball ignited within it. The small flame illuminated the woodwork around her to great effect. It danced just above her palm like a caffeinated pixie.
“Alaric, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Um...I think you have me mistaken for someone else.” Flair came closer to the now sitting form.
“Alaric of Vanish, I would know your voice out of a crowd of a thousand people, now stop playing games with me.” She lowered the flame, and spread light over the boy’s face. Cold blue eyes and dark hair stared back at her intently. Yet, something was different about him. He wore strange clothes instead of the silks she was accustomed to. He had shorter hair too, and when she looked down at his legs, they were nowhere to be seen.
Holding her hand over her mouth, the girl restrained the scream that yearned to explode from her lips.
“What happened to you?” she embraced him, making sure the flame did not burn his unprotected back. He pushed her away, a look of bemusement on his face.
“Look, I don’t know who you think I am, but I can assure you that I’m not from around here. My name’s Liam, by the way.” He stuck out his hand in a strange manner, and Flair stumbled back.
“Alaric, you know me, Flair, do not jest. Tell me what happened to your legs.”
“Flair, whoever you are, whoever this Alaric dude is, I ain’t him. I’ve never seen you before in my life. You’re Rune’s kid, aren’t you?” said Liam, no longer amused.
“Will you people stop calling me a kid, I am Flair of Ragfin, daughter of the Vanish.”
“And now you’re dead.” came a voice from the top of the stairs. A soft click followed, and a racing bullet just missed Flair’s head. It pierced harmlessly through the woodworks of a nearby table.
Rolling expertly, Flair sent another ripple from her palm, this one causing trapped air to go whooshing up the staircase. From upstairs the sound of a body being thrown on its back could be heard. Rune’s daughter pulled her hand backwards, dragging the body head over heels down the stairs with a tractor ripple. Ebony landed in a heap on the floor, her forehead bleeding.
Flair ripped the gun from Ebony’s temporarily pinned arms.
“I hate guns.” she said, sending it spinning across the floor into a darkened corner. Ebony, tough to bring down, rose to her feet shakily. Both women regarded each other with contempt. Liam shrank back into the corner, praying that he would not get tangled up in this clash of titans. This was sure to get ugly.

Just Keep Rollin' Rollin' Rollin'...

The Road to Damascus

Rolling in your ways,
I listen for your voice,
For you guide me through this maze,
I wait with patience in my poise,
Even though I cannot completely comprehend,
Even though sometimes I trip,
I have your Angels that you send
Through you I run towards this Mountain’s tip,
Before I was lost,
And while I still have my moments,
I praise you for the bridges I have crossed,
You hear when I cry for atonements,
You do not judge,
You only love,
Though my pen may often smudge,
I follow your tranquil dove,
The path ahead of me is paved,
For truly I am being saved...

Two by two, Hands of Blu (Chapters Seven and Eight)

Chapter Seven
The hand cannon’s shaft glinted in the sunlight that spilled through the window. Its elegantly crafted wooden handle passed under the metallic barrel. The sight at the tip of the barrel opened up into what looked like a trumpet’s horn. Etched into the handle in script was the name Brice, Captain of the Guard.
“It truly is a work of art. Led, you’ve proved your worth as master Gunsmith yet again.” said Brice, admiring his new gun.
“It is a pleasure to be of service to a son of Trilth. We fought alongside each other during the border wars, your father and I, did he ever tell you-“ the stooped old man that sat on a rickety stool was cut off in mid ramble.
“I’m sure it’s a very interesting tale, but as the new Captain of the Guard, I have matters to attend to.” replied the youthful boy, impatience showing in his brown eyes.
Led slumped in his seat as his ego deflated, then quickly turned back to his workstation. Another half finished hand cannon lay atop it, mold in the masters’ hands. Brushing sawdust off his red and gold armor, Brice slung his gun over his back. Just as he was about to come through the doorway that opened out into one of the myriad meandering streets in Trilth, Wilmo scurried in.
“Man-at-arms Wilmo of Awn with a message, sir!” he cried, saluting the youth overenthusiastically.
“Wilmo, I know who you are, and for the tenth time this week, you do not have to salute me.”
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir. Only following regulations, sir.” said Wilmo, trying to account for the affront he had caused Brice.
“Please don’t call me sir either Wilmo. Now what is this message?”
“Travelers from afar.” He ducked his head in the doorway.
“They are a bit strange, if you know what I mean.” He drew his head out again.
“No, I don’t know what you mean.” Brice could feel his patience running thin again.
“Well...one of them has a gun...and the other one...he’s riding around in a wheelbarrow.”
“A what?” It was too early in the morning for this.
“Well...at least it looks like he’s riding in a wheelbarrow.”
“Show me to them.” said Brice unenthusiastically.
Wilmo trotted down the street with Brice close at his heels, as the smell of fresh bread and fish wafted through the air. Turning yet another corner passed the Blacksmith’s, the young Captain glimpsed three figures ahead.
Man-at-arms Bolrick, with his rotund body standing resolute in the street, guarded the two newcomers. A girl round about Brice’s age stood, hands on her hips. Her midriff showed below her white shirt. Unused to seeing such a large amount of flesh laid bare on a woman’s body, Brice shielded his eyes. Her blonde hair was once again tied back in a fierce bun and an advanced-looking gun was slung across her back. The girl’s companion, a younger boy, looked at Brice under black hair. As Wilmo had said, he did indeed seem to be sitting in something that looked rather like a wheelbarrow.
“May I present Brice, Captain of the Trilth Guard!” announced Wilmo, receiving a dark look from the embarrassed Brice.
“I am Liam, and this is Ebony. We’ve crossed one of the Bridges here, following a group of Fae. We were wondering if you had seen them.” said the boy.
“What Bridges? What is all this talk of Fae as well? Everyone knows they are just a myth to scare little children at night.” Wilmo replied with conviction.
“Wilmo...I shall deal with this. Master Liam, Lady Ebony, follow me into the Barracks. We can discuss your unusual story in there. We don’t want to upset the villagers. Right this way.” said Brice, leading the way towards the barracks.
Dodging a couple of street urchins, they neared the building. Built of stone similar to that of the city walls, the Barracks towered over the houses that nestled beneath its shadow. Crenellations rose at even intervals, Town Guard patrolling on them. Passing through the open archway, Brice led the other four to his offices. A house like structure stood against one wall of the barrack’s courtyard. Men-at-arms practiced swordsmanship with one another in the open space, showing off for their new Captain.
The youthful soldier opened the decaying door of the office, and motioned the two visitors to stay in the main room. His men followed him into his private offices, shutting the door behind them. Brice laid his new gun upon a well-furnished desk, and took a seat behind it. Brushing his blonde air away from his sunken eyes he breathed deeply.
“So...what do we do with these people?” asked Wilmo.
“What do you mean, Wil? Must we do anything with them? I don’t see that they’ve done anything wrong. Maybe we should just let them be.” the boy replied.
“But they think they come from Neverbin, the first plane. They think they saw Fae. We do not want them to infect the minds of the villagers. We could have another insurrection on our hands.”
“Wil, I don’t think it’s a crime to believe in Faebel and the Fae. I think I shall let them go.”
“No! You shall not! They are a threat to the peace of mind of this fair village of Trilth. They are anarchists and rabble-rousers and will be monitored at all times!” came a familiar voice from the door. Both men-at-arms quickly stepped out, not wishing to intrude.
Closing the door behind him, the Prefect of Trilth, Ferrin of Kobble, stepped inside. Robes of gold and red covered his rather obese body. His stubby fingers were bejeweled with the finest of rings. His baldhead was concealed with a golden crown helm. It glinted with the sunlight that shone through the window. The blue stone that was etched in the crown’s center completed his opulent garb.
“What is your business here?” said Brice, knowing that the presence of the Prefect was going to complicate things astronomically.
“I can’t visit unannounced anymore? I heard there were some newcomers, and I thought I’d come by. I see you’ve gotten a new hand cannon crafted, Led is truly a master of the art.” said Ferrin, handling the gun with reverence.
“I would appreciate it if you would put that down. I paid for it with all last month’s wages. Which my men and I agree was all much too low. We expect at least ten more Gorns next month.”
“Now, Brice, you must understand. The budget of the Town Guard had to be cut down. After the last Poor Man’s Revolt, we’ve had to rebuild all the houses that were destroyed during the battle. Not to mention all the money distributed to the previous Captain’s widows. Which, I might add, is whose seat you’re sitting in. Can you imagine all the strings I had to pull in order for you to sit there? Don’t be so ungrateful.”
“I would be grateful if I had gotten here myself. To be the Captain of the Trilth Guard has been my life long dream, but not like this. I shouldn’t even be sitting here.”
“Yes you should, you are the best man for the job. You have earned it. You slew two rebels, those that would-
“Those that were poor, that had nothing. Those who had been oppressed and were pushed to the brink. Whose daughters had been taken from them to be wives of the wealthy. Men that had loved me...that I loved! All gone with one pull of my trigger, one flick of my wrist. If that’s what it takes to become Captain then I don’t want to be the Captain!”
“Order above all! Those men stood for chaos, for superstitious, dead beliefs. They had to be put down. It was for the good of the people.”
“Listen to yourself! They are the people! We exist to serve them, not them serving us.” With this, Ferrin gave a long cackling laugh.
“You still have a lot to learn, my young son.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“You are my son, whether you wish to associate with me or not. I’m not the only one that misses you. Your sister wishes that you would come visit. We are only a few streets from here.”
“Well enough of this, if you would excuse me, Prefect, I have matters to attend to.” said Brice, attempting to hide the fact that he missed his sister as well.
“I came to offer my services. I’ve called for a meeting of the Six tomorrow. Among other matters, we will decide what to do with these two. For now, take them to the Beer Tap. Rune will be happy to give them room and board.”
“I see. Well, I suppose that can be arranged.” said Brice, just wishing for Ferrin to get out of his sight. He hated relenting to his father like this, but kept finding himself doing it.
“Good day, Captain.” said Ferrin, exiting the office swiftly. Rising from his seat, Brice exited his office. He walked straight into another argument.
“Now listen here, Milady. It’s bad enough that you are a member of the weaker sex that handles weapons. You must allow me to take that gun from you; they are not permitted on civilians in the village. Especially not young girls.”
“You can stuff it, jarhead. This gun has gotten me through a lot. In order for you to have it, you would have to pry my cold, dead fingers from it.” retorted Ebony, fixing Wilmo with her fiery emerald eyes.
“Captain, she will not part with her weapon. Should I have Bolrick make her?” asked Wilmo. From the corner of his eye, Brice could just make out Bolrick cracking his knuckles experimentally.
“Um...no...she can keep her weapon.” said Brice tentatively. Bolrick muttered something dejectedly under his breath.
“Follow me, we are going to arrange room and board for you at the local inn until we figure out what to do with you.” With that, Brice led them out the Captain’s house.
Quickening his step, Brice’s mood improved. He was going to the Beer Tap. He earnestly wished that he would be able to speak with the only person that made life in Trilth worth living. Flair of Ragfin was intrigue herself.


Chapter Eight
“I think, Master Mune, you have had too much Dragon’s Milk. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“O, no, young lad, I’m not drunk, jusht shlightly tipshy.” said Mune, falling to the inn’s floor with a resounding crash. This early in the day?
“Father...Mune blacked out again. Could you carry him outside!” cried Flair, stepping over the body tiredly. Rune shambled over, his bar apron splattered with all manner of drink. In front of the assembled farmers and miners, he slung the drunkard over his shoulder expertly.
“You should lose some weight, Mune. What have your wives been feeding you lately?” he said, much to the jeers of the inn goers. Rune headed towards the exit, his boots shuffling on the uneven wooden floorboards. He opened the door, and stumbled outside. Flair watched for a few moments, then turned back to the assembled men at one of the tables.
The nearest man, a grizzled miner, grabbed her dress, attempting to feel up her leg. As he grinned cruelly up at her, her eyes burned with disgust. Quickly checking to see if her father was still outside, she focused on the man’s elbow. What appeared to be the slightest tremor of a liquid like substance rippling through the air joggled the elbow he was leaning on. It slipped off the table, and the man’s face splashed right into his steaming soup. The other men laughed, assuming he had done this by himself. The screams would not die down for several minutes. Flair fervently hoped Alaric would not find out about her abuse of the Tap.
A knock came from the door. Assuming it to be Rune locked out, Flair stormed over. Steaming, she flung open the door.
“Alright! That’s it! I am never working at your horrid inn again. All manner of vile and disgusting filth can just waltz his way in...” Her voice trailed off as she saw the Captain of the Guard standing before her. Slightly taken aback, Brice meekly said:
“I hope I’m not this vile filth you speak of. Can I come in?” Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the girl led the way to the bar. Brice shook his head inwardly. Truly an oddity. Flair jumped over the bar countertop with one leap, upsetting a tankard of an unknown green substance. Turning to the Captain, she spoke.
“I apologize for the outburst back there. I thought you were my father. Is there anything I can help you with, Brice?”
“Yes...there are some travelers waiting outside...from afar. I wish to have them stay here for the night. Can that be arranged with your father?”
“I believe it can, he’ll be right back from taking out...the rubbish.” she said, pouring a drink for him from one of the greasy taps. She slid the mug towards him expertly.
“So...Flair, how are things?”
“They are good.” she said, busying herself by wiping down the counter.
“Still recovering from the fighting?”
“You know, you didn’t have to defend me like that. That man was not going to attack me.”
“I took it upon myself as a Son of Trilth to defend a Daughter of Trilth. It was my pleasure.”
“Blowing a man’s head off was pleasurable for you? I am so glad to hear that. I knew that man, I had seen him around Trilth all the time. He was not going to attack me, I can assure you.”
“He may have been polite to you before, but he was running towards you with a mad glint in his eye.”
“Perhaps because he saw the look in your eye.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Young lad, I would quit while your behind.” said a man drinking an ale beside him. Flair chuckled for a fleeting second.
The door flung open, and Rune stepped back in, Muneless.
“Father...there is an unthinking slave of the government here to see you.” said Flair, giving Brice a sardonic smile. He could feel his ears burning.
“Flair, I brought you up better than that! Brice, our favorite Captain of the Guard, how may I be of service to you?” Rune said, bowing emphatically.
“I have visitors from beyond Trilth. I would like to have them rest here for the night. Until we figure out what to do with them.”
“Certainly, anything for the Town Guard.” Brice could see from the corner of his eye Flair cough loudly with Rune’s latest comment.
“Hold your tongue, Daughter!” At this, Flair stuck out and grabbed her tongue, apparently in one of her obstinate moods. Shaking with indignation, the inn keep pointed up the stairs at the other end of the room. He could not even form the words. Achieving what she had wanted, the girl raced away. Taking one last look a Brice, she bounded up the stairs, her reddish-blonde hair flowing behind her.
“That girl! Infuriating! I apologize, Brice, you can bring your travelers in.” said Rune.
“She’s not all that bad. She brought a smile to my day.”
“You want to keep her?” replied Rune, half joking.

So Far Away

Castle Nova

Delusions,
Confusions,

Fear,
Near,

Decay,
Pay,

Impatience,
Relations,

Beyond,
Fond,

Slanted,
Ranted,

Pummeled,
Bundled,

Forsaken,
Brakin’,

Reaching,
Preaching,

Unknown,
Unsown,

Blunder,
Thunder,

Good Fight,
White Knight...