Nathrangking

I tried, but I just can't kick this habit. I may as well stop trying. Here is Poem #39.

                                                                  Forget No More

Stars spill from the very heights as if pulled from their perches on high by some monstrous hand and cover the world in their soft light. The great upper expanse grows darker as all of the radiance exposes the ways that even the most sacred of groves are being pillaged and the deities whose shrines are being defiled simply turn away to shed their tears instead of raising gauntleted hands to stem the corruption that is leeching peace from the realm. Cities are breached and their secrets are exposed to those who draw forth sword and shield in the name of wreaking bloody vengeance. Oceans are scarlet and those wild beasts that escape slaughter feed in a frenzy the stench of offal wafting up as a sign of what this wretched plane has become. Weeping so bitter is louder than even the clashes that so tear apart family and bond rending civilization itself until all that is left are the most frayed of threads drenched in tears and stained by lifeblood expended in vain. What now then can become of this broken place? None arise to act and crumbling walls appear to be all that will even be remembered.

From that place where the revelations have come one remains above that which was wrought upon her siblings. From her comes illumination of a different sort ever known before to the mortal souls that freeze in place. It is warm, but not destructive in nature cool waves fly forth and yet it does not still raging hearts. Calming music plays along the flowing waters that she rides down upon a barge of the most wondrous sounds. They weave together and are at the same time more beautiful than every work of art that human or divine hands ever wrought. Jewels are dead stones when brought up in comparison. Sleek and sinuous nothing of its like could even be thought of much less ever truly described without casting the worst of insults upon it. Where it goes rifts close as if an enchantment was rewriting the nature of reality itself. All of the carnage ceases when it faces this power and the corruption burns away with a shriek that shatters mountains. Those who descended rise again anew and more than they had been when they were set adrift. As all heals she returns on high and restores light to a place that forgot what illumination truly means.