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Nathrangking

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Nathrangking last won the day on August 3 2022

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About Nathrangking

  • Birthday 08/29/2016

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  • Member Title
    Master and overlord of all magics both good and evil
  • Pronouns
    he/him
  • Interests
    Writing poetry etc..., Reading the Cosmere, Military History, Mythology, as well as countless other interests. I am the all powerful creator and destroyer of worlds and realities. Poet, Author, Playwright, Screenwriter, Bibliophile a few titles of many that create the form of the enigma.

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  1. I give you Poem # 37. It has been more than a month I know, but here we are again. I hope that you enjoy it!

     

    Revelation of Illumination

    The stars fracture into thousands of sparkling fragments and so much dust that fills the cosmos with the most sublime light. Deities locked in battles that send tremors throughout the heights hack and slash in frenzied jealousy. Their hands reach out to subsume this illumination for themselves. Worlds crumble as powers clash with unquenchable violence that spills golden ichor across the canvas formed from the flesh of the primordial ruler of the higher realms. Cacophony shreds those walls meant to hold reality still. Spears skewer legions even while oceans of arrows seek blood to spill. Temples and sanctuaries are no refuge from the carnage whose ferocity is only growing. Waves sweep all into a hellish nightmare that has exposed the innocent to horrors that will not end. All is being consumed with a gluttony that burns fear even into the spirits of war whose own hunger relishes morsels as they now have available to them. Crowns fall and are upraised again to continue the fight.

     

    From the most hidden place comes something mightier than the screams of agony and bellows of challenge that are carved into the brutalized and whimpering form of the mortal plane. First, a single note pierces the din silencing everything for an eternity bound in the costume of an instant. Then more music spins and twists weaving something indescribable that smothers all of the nightmarish sounds that stand armed for conflict. Behind them a figure wielding nothing, but the sound of her voice emerges into the field so drenched in death. Refrain after refrain encircles armies sending them to where they can harm no more. Gods and goddesses are stripped of all authority and cast away into an abyss carved from their callous destruction. That desired radiance flies forth returning all that was lost. Awesome serenity falls when the final strain of the song ends. Hers is the throne in the midst of light renewed and a tune mysterious and ever present in the mists of all worlds.

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