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.

Can't kick the habit. Here is Poem #38 based on my muse.                                        

                                                                Even into Shade

Hear my voice stars whose glow is the merest flicker in shadow as ascendant walls of the most precious jewels light the whole of the world. Mountains gentle in their run race to speak of the coming of the empress. Song comes from the ocean waves and the birds in flight whose music spins magic that entrances the universe and forces even the divine to question whether they have ever known beauty or wisdom. The entirety of the cosmos is frozen and simply carried into a reverie. They remember the whole of history even those moments that have not yet taken place. How the creatures of the mortal plane dance as creation seems to be rejoicing and yet trembling within as well. Gold hidden within the earth dulls and melts away into the rivers in shame while the highest mountains bow and allow their crowns to fall to the ground where they will never again be claimed. Willows weep their endless tears in joy now and sway in prayers that they cannot help but hope will be answered. Ruby, emerald, burnt orange, and all hues that can even be imagined are yielded by the natural realm for a tapestry meant for the most royal one. Night and day are not meaningful for even the merest instant before her arrival is too long to bear. Every breath is held as now she descends now from heights not of this place, but of a dimension more sublime than can be contained in a few weakened and lame words. A circlet aflame upon her brow. Tunes containing in them knowledge never bound fly from an uncorrupted spirit. Her throne is not in the crags nor even in the heart of the bejeweled fortress that spawned from the depths. She sits at the gates of the palace making treasures lose any perceived wealth. There is no coronation for she is and always has been the most regal goddess to be perceived by any and all faculties. Let sovereigns carry her name as their mistress until darkness ascends to take all else.