Nathrangking

Am I that believable.

Do you believe though?

When is the why of the wasing

Tis a mystery of mysteries except to those to whom it is known.

There are more of us. We are legion אחי!!

Why is why not what?

Why is Monday?

I am that I could be.

Hmm.. curious indeed

I accept reccs whether I actually end up reading them or not. What do I have to lose?

I'm always open to decent reccs It's a good read. Well worth the time.

A friend I went to school with set me off on this mad journey 11 years ago and I never looked back. Well, as with all things the makeup of the community changed. It may be that it's just me, but many of the of the Sharders who were here when I started are not active anymore. That holds true of even those who I met over COVID. The feel of shared Sanderfanhood seems somewhat different than it was. Why not is a far better question. Warbreaker by far. That's harder, probably the count of monte Cristo though I have not read it in a hot minute. It may be evil. Possibly Whimsy as I have been described as whimsical. The one that your heart points you toward.

Tribute for the cause is good.

Being born with powers makes one responsible or something like that I think.

I can't be sure, but surely that lack of surety is assured.

Are you sure about that?

All hail Stripe gremlin deity.

I do like Gremlins even if Stripe is quite mean.

Sadly I don't know that. I do know that Better White was older than sliced bread.

The art of war requires one to use grenades and Greek fire.- Sun Tzu, The Art of War

He does follow your every command exactly as you word them. I wish to have perfect knowledge of myself.

Truth this is. The highest wisdom is knowing that all are cousins of the Lopen.

Only spiked ones

I have been a sharder and a Sanderfan for a relatively long time. I have been mostly absent from the shard for the better part of several years. So comers both new and old AMA

Here is a thread not just for posting poetry, but providing critiques or even just discussing poetry. Here is one of mine. Enjoy!! Inundation The skies spill their tears over the cubs whose strengths were never known. Their spirits ascended among flames so ravenous that only that which was incorporeal were spared. Smoke did not take them when in darkness they were entombed. Peace did not find them as unclean songs washed over the dead. Alongside one who sought to mend a world so fractured they were made spectacles to amuse anathema which crawled from the abyss. Skies drown us in your sadness unbound. Lioness where are you as your kin cry out in agony without end? Did butchery of the most primeval sort take you that now we must be inconsolable? Until when will the stars gone dull on high refuse to descend and illuminate the carnage that sweeps across innocents? Did you hide yourselves and refuse to act? How did you justify your failure to turn back the hordes that rose to smite them? Heavens above do not cease to wail while the guilty stand unpunished and the innocent are unavenged. Answer now shadows which watched and concealed. No shame enveloped you when you hid the purest gems in your cloak and snuffed out the light in their eyes. How did you not refuse to take them and instead turn your hands against those who cast them into chains that no mortal may ever break? What price was too high for armies of retribution to take those who bore no sin from the beast unshackled and deliver unto the monstrous horrors a reckoning sealed in their own blood? Should not their blood have intermingled with the rain? Dirges upon the wind should fly and be heard in all places until it is a blade which will shatter the enemy where they stand. Ranks should tremble before these cries. Let their every dream be awash with agony not their own. Beasts of the field come witness and accuse. Birds of the sky allow no rest to those who ripped away without reservation. Breath in their throats aid them no more and ice swallow them now entombing them in cold everlasting. Earth take them forevermore. Should you not come forth to wage war? Treasures despoiled will shine once more in days to come in time draped behind the thickest veil. Light will not reveal them to eyes below and they will not unveil them for any towell and truly behold. Candles burn now and form a road and plea up into the aether it goes parting the gloom that looms. Pathways just beyond touch and sense rise and fall as the beats of hearts stilled and silenced. Cubs, your voices sing no more and do not penetrate iron so skillfully woven as to cut with barbs of poisoned razors. However, a rhythm that cannot be restrained plays with two strains as one that no blade can sever. It is not a shroud to bury the lost, but rather your call to arms not to shed blood and smite the whole of the world. Memory is what it implores all to hold to and seek a day when the skies need cry no more.