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Thread: Do you have a poem to share? - Undale (ALL POEMS HERE, PLEASE)

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There are some who write poetry that we enjoy, but like a fading flower it does not stay with us. There are others whose poetry flows as freely as their voice, reaching into us and drawing us with them into another world. This is what you have done in this poem, Vir! I cannot begin to praise it for fear of marring the wonder of it. All Hail! The Poet has arrived!
Yup, Virumor took the poem of John Keats (1795-1821) and placed Middle-earth terminolgy into it such that if fits the situation quite well. This is another of Virumor's unique talents for which he should be praised.
FŽanor

The sound of hoofbeats 'cross the glade,
Good folk, lock up your son and daughter,
Beware the deadly flashing blade,
Unless you want to end up shorter.

FŽanor, FŽanor, he rides a pitch black steed.
FŽanor, FŽanor, he's very bad indeed!

Black: his gloves of finest mole,
Black: his codpiece made of metal,
His horse is blacker than a vole
His pot is blacker than his kettle.

FŽanor, FŽanor, with many a cunning plan.
FŽanor, FŽanor, you horrid little man!

Rendered from the theme song of Blackadder I
I am surprised that you have seen the First Blackadder series. Not many people have.

Anyway hither is a poem I composed on another thread:

Often Gandalf rode in haste
From burning waste to nether shores
He passed in haste through golden doors
And came at last to Silver walls
and entered Gondor's pride of Halls
To Minas Tirith which never falls.

Until at last he councelled then
To seek aid from the northern Men,
The Horsemen from the plains of gold
And ask that they fulfill of old
The oath that Cirion once said
Till sun should fade and moon be dead.

Theoden then rode with speed,
Flying fast to Men at need,
Then he did the greatest deeds,
Of the Household that he leads.
He fell then in that battle told,
And minstrels sing of him of old:
'Son of Thengel the ever-gold'
Who lies now deep in tomb a-cold.

Eomer became then King,
And harpers often sing of him:
'Free from evil and of sin
leader of the northern kin'.
He turned his horse to Edoras
Through flowing grass he came at last
To Meduseld the Golden Hall
Slightly north of Mountain Wall.


Here is something I composed now (roughly about 20 mins):

Aragorn, O Ellesar old,
whither did you stray of old?
To mountains tall and ever-white,
With Rangers many and much foresight.

Dunedain that seldom dwell,
away from woods or from the fell.
Trusty men they are at need,
and Aragorn he doth them lead.

King of Gondor you rightly are,
Upon your chest a shining star.
High lord of fair Ithilien,
wide Anfalas and Lebennin.

Captain of the Numenor kin,
And leader of all that come therein.
From father to son the line has passed,
And at you it strayed unto the last.

The line of Gondor shall never fail,
Whether or no the Elves set sail,
Unto at last the uttermost west,
and dwell evermore in heaveness.
LOA, those are lovely; I love the way the words flow like the waves...
The black... vegetable!

Blackadder is great! I've seen every episode. Orc With Thumbs Up Smilie
Thank you indeed Sian. Big Smile Smilie

I too have all the Blackadder series on DVD and have watched them each a dozen times over. Its my favourite comedy along with Only Fools and Porridge (though I very much like Open all Hours and Keeping up Appearences).
It seems that there are quite a few nice poets out there, sad that this thread hasn't been in active use for a long while now, but time to change that, I guess. Smile Smilie

I don't usually write that many short texts or truly poem-alike stuff, but here's something from one incomplete lyric of mine:

Three Aspects of Nature

In all of her grace and glory, she stepped forward
Oí Mother Earth, The Goddess of Nature
There the three stood and remained silent, so it is told
And then she called upon all of the powers of this world

And their souls were embraced by calmness of wind
As many beautiful songs and voices filled their minds
Each of them took new shapes, no longer mortals they were
And so they accepted their gifts, of raven, wolf and bear

Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen.
You are absolutely right Oerath.I will be back with my poems soon.We got to really keep this place alive.

You know it works just like this,

You can feel the creaks and groans and laughter,

As everything slowly leaves you,

You can feel the clapping of shutting doors,

As memories start collecting dust,

Even the strongest force is now "once was",

Nothing surprises,nothing terrifies at this moment,

As if an eternity spent on seas is latching to harbour chains,

And there is freedom now from bonds i never wanted to break,

There are adventures to conquer,

There is something to look for,

But i know deep within the fire of truth will be alight,

I will forgive our sins but i will never forget them,

You might recede but i will remember your jokes,

And tell them to stones around a lonely fire,

For I know my destiny is isolation,

Things to be done,things to be recollected,

Before i stop gettting bothered by all these,

How things were,and how things are going to be,

I just know i have to live

 

Even if you hate my poem(above) please feel free to share your opinions.I will get to learn.Thanks.
Sounds like a not too grief filled lament, possibly by an elf to his/her partner of long standing, who has recently withered away from old age. But then what do I know: 'I know nothink'.
No, Odette, I am not the right person to hate anyone's poems. Smile Smilie
I've to say that it was interesting to read, and for me - quite something new, and you seem to have a good style of your own. So, Odette, hereby I bless your soul with the undying mark of nature, let it be a token of respect. Smile Smilie - Oerath.
Oh, and here's something from my archives, when I do some poetic stuff, it's usually a bit short, but nothing wrong in that I guess (as long as it's good in the eyes of the readers!)

Home of the Damned

With it's wings clapping silently, a black raven flied across the sky
it was flying towards the dark sun, it was the messenger of night
And when the sky changed it's grey clothes to dim black
that raven arrived to it's master's den, to home of the damned

Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen.

PS. I once thought to write an sequel to this one, an opposite version, which would be entitled as 'Home of the Blessed'.
@Oerath:Lovely imagery my blessed friend Very Big Grin Smilie .No really you will be one great lyricist someday.About my poems feel free to say anything.
@Grondy:I get you yes.Cheeky,sad.Thanks

The clouds above the bridge were mundane and grey,

Broken at places by thick yellow light,

And the river below was a sheet of grey,

Striped black and silver by the morning sky.

 

@ Odette, that was a beautiful poem, I also had a inspiration this morning, when I was looking at the sun, so restless and bright as always. (I might've used the same lines a few times before, but here I go).

The Gleaming Light of Our World

Oh, sun, the gleaming light of our world, you're so restless and bright
your beautiful and radiating light shines throughout the whole universe
Oh, sun, the great star of the sky, use your strenght to keep the night at bay
protect us from it's shadows, and ensure our safety, so we can live to see the rise of another day

Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen
@Oerath:You know you should really try your hand at long-poetry writing.Stuff that has intertwining plots and grand lyrics(by you of course).You can I am sure do it.But no worries.The beauty of writing and music or any art is its spontaenity and randomness,albeit invisibly wrapped in some discipline.By the way I hardly know a thing about you.What do you study?
Thank you, Odette, I take that to my consider, and well, I could as well tell you a bit of me, so here I go: I am Otto-Aaro Timonen, but I use my artistic name 'Oerath' a lot novadays, I am 19 years old musician and writer, I've no formal education, but I am at the moment in vocational school, studying line of driving and logistics, though I'm not sure will I be able to continue there, I'll find it out by the up-coming monday. Well, I've never been that good in school, so I barely ever studied, I used my time to draw, write or figure out new drumming combos to my taste, or to sing songs silently inside my mind, thus, I began to grow more interested in writing and singing at the age of 13, quickly as years passed and my voice evolved to what it's presently, I realized what I can sing, and what I don't, but that's about it, my personal interests/hobbies are: music, arts, nature, wandering, photographing, television-series (I've always been a big fan of both sci-fi and fantasy), RPG-games, mysticism, 'cold training' and lately I've thought to begin to meditate or kind of get in touch with the spirits of this world, if you can understand what I'm saying.

Well, that's a bit about me, and as last thing I'll explain what I meant with 'cold training', despite I admit the fact, that I've some weight that I could loose, I've always been interested in coldness, thus I've practised to physically withstand it, and I've succeeded pretty well, -30 Celsius starts to be something that freezes my fingers and ears, and since none is indestructible, thus I always watch out for not getting a cold, or something else, so I know the limits timely and practise it only in areas where I truly can do it my way, but this also easiers my choice of clothes, as I use same kind of jeans and jackets (basic clothes) throughout the year. Smile Smilie

That was 'a bit', so, I wish you and all of the others who are present in PT a very nice late evening.

- Oerath.
You plan everything out a lot don't you?Smile Smilie
I think its great you just do what you want to.It is not so easy for many of us.When I was very young I started learning singing but then studies took all my time.So now I just write and draw and sing when I am alone(in my sad little voiceSmile Smilie) and tinker on the piano.See you around and do come to the other threads

I see the cold stars melt in the black of your eyes,

The breath of your words, quiet and dark,

You wonder if I ever loved you, and you smile in your mind,

Judging yourself for loving me, one brilliant summer and a million nights.

I wish I can see yet again, the sparkle of my laughter trapped in your eyes,

I wish to walk again in the rain and talk of nothing but moonlight,

The dreams are coming alive again,trampled and afraid, and I want to stand beside you watching the sun dip in the waves,

To leave now would be death,

For you,me,these words and the meaning of heaven,

Think once more dearest, think of the time when love meant just you and me,

And nothing else.

 

Well, heh, at times I do plan a lot, maybe even a bit too much to say, but anyway, I could as well come to some other threads to spend some quality time. Smile Smilie Maybe evenings would suit bestly for that, I've kept a lot of break from writing too (a bit over a.. week or two!)

And I just did read your newest writting, and I must say that I'm impressed, all of the words seemed to create a soft and beautiful combination that was quite touching too, and I'd say that you, Odette, are good in what you do.

PS. even as I am kind of trollish heavy musician, I secretly like a lot of romanticism and thus sometimes I write stories about love and so on (tis' shoulda be a secrethssh!)

And last, but not the least, I thought about summer and all of these fine, glorious, but maybe a bit too warm days - and decided to write down one good and old folkish lyric of mine.

Here I go.

Midsummer Tales I Ė Folk of the Woods

I bet you might have heard of them
Of the folk living in the woods
Singing their songs
Telling their stories
And dancing around the great bonfire

I bet you might have seen them
The folk living in the woods
There all rivers are flowing
The whole nature is blooming
And stars and moon are smiling and glowing
Even during the times of daylight

I bet you might have spoken with them
With the folk living in the woods
Where waterfalls are roaring
And soft winds are blowing
Where rain is falling, still the sky is never stormy
In the lands ruled by the mighty folk
In the lands where the day reigns over the night

Written by: Otto 'Oerath Timonen

I've thought to write a second lyric, which will tell in shortly poetic verses about the forest that lies behind this house, I call it 'The Forest of Whispering Winds', there also resides my great throne, I mean the thinking stone. =)
@Thanks dear Oerath for the praise.I don't think I deserve that.
As for your latest,it brought a smile on my face.Have you read The Hobbit?There was this scene where Bilbo and the Dwarves spy on Elves or fairies(it escapes me) dancing in the woods around secret fires.Your lyrics reminded me of that magic.
And about romanticism I guess all of us know how love is.I am not a total mushy person but I do write such things if I can't cope with my personal life.Being in love is a good idea till you get hurtSmile Smilie
Heh, Of course I've read that one, I've two editions of it, and it's a good book, so are all of Tolkien's books, I may've taken some of the inspiration from it, but I clearly remember that I was like in aeroplane, listening to Ensiferum's 'Goblin's Dance' and got inspiration from the moment, and I wrote some text 'into my mind', if you know what I mean, and then I finished it much more later on my own computer. Yes, I must agree with you, so true indeed.
Mate you online?
But Taz says there is a bug.
You must mean the curiosity of the early evening, I came here and was like 'In the name of the gods, 1899 members online!?' Big Smile Smilie and thought that 'If this is a bug, then I don't mind at all.'

Anyway, good evening once again, Odette, and I thought about our past conversations, and decided that it is time to post something great, and so, as a kind of request from you, I represent you and all of the other people who are hunger for more stories and fantasy tales with one of my novel works: Dorwus, The Hero of War.
Hey Dorwus starts out great but man I am so tired today(I caught a movie after college) I guess I will finish it tomorrow.Well done mate.I started writing a poem in the morning.Turned out a snivelly,depressing thing
Here's one of the new four short poems: Maiden of Seas.

Alyssarian was standing at the edge of the twilight shores
When she saw the spirit of the maiden of seas, a sailor's mystery
Winds were silent as the sky opened for the fall of the nightrain
Only a few words were spoken, before the maiden disappeared again

Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen

And here's another poem from the accompany of the mentioned four: The Dark Lament, enjoy!

The Dark Lament

And as the darkness crawls out of it's den
The Dark One returns from the deeps of the forgotten depths
He strives to steal the power of night from Xaié, but without any success
For she is too powerful, her will is like the sun's everlasting brightness

Written by: Otto 'Oerath' Timonen

I have taken some little time to read the offerings to this fascinating thread and I am quite blown away.

I must say the feeling I had was like one I remember where I met a person who seemed so like every one else, clothes, manner of walking, etc. And then she spoke and  it was if I had stepped into another realm, full of rich tapestries of thought, sumptuous descriptions; and I realized the hugeness of this person's heart and feelings and excellence of her mind.

That is the same feeling I had as I read along. Each one of you that has contributed has your very own flair, your unique style and manner of seeing the world, of seeing Middle-Earth. The way each of you lays down your thoughts is really quite extraordinary, and I thank you for allowing me to journey along the paths you mapped out for your poems.

I myself , although having been an editor for a newspaper, could really care less about the 'correctness or precision or method' of what is written, for , I see each person as having written his or her own codes of speech and thought, and really in the end who can judge that. So , if you look for that type of criticism, you will never get it from me. Ask an English teacher!

I am here to marvel and think and learn and grow and it is exciting.

So, thank you boatloads for your inspiring, lovely, probing, sometimes disturbing, wonderful words.

Please, ANYONE, consider contributing. Let us fill Middle-Earth with lays and thought and each of us leave a lasting contribution to this wondrous world of Planet-Tolkien that we inhabit, if just for a little each day or now and then.

That was well said, Leelee, this thread is surely a good one, and something that is worthy to be kept active. Smile Smilie

You are so right, and so I shall sit here, perhaps with my tea and wait, and wait , until you are the first to contribute from this moment on ..Smile Smilie

er.................I am waiting.

That was a good speech LeeleeSmile Smilie

And thank you for your sincere words.I hope to be a better poet for youSmile Smilie

Well, Leelee, here's something to read! Smile Smilie

It's a token from one of my best lyric series: Tales from the realm of secrets and legends

I'll begin to post parts from it someday, but not now, anyway, all of the lyrics tell about the secrets and legends of Arcadian, there is like 6 lyrics/parts now, and more than 6-10 will follow them, and a few of them will be/are longer stories.

Tales from the realm of secrets and legends

Part IV : Ancient City of Gold

Beneath the abandoned ruins of Esgalorn
There lies the ancient city of gold
Under dark soil and stony ground
In the depths it awaits, for all of it’s gold and treasures to be found

Many have tried to reach the city’s gates
But all of them have fallen down to endless valleys and depths of caverns
It is said, that an entire civilization resides in the golden halls
With old strong shields and glimmering swords and spears of steel
They keep guard in their ancient down, inside the great city walls

The ancient city of gold
Like any of the stars and planets, it’s history is that of old
The ancient city of gold
Like the lost lands in the depths of frozen seas, under still and motionless waves
Secrets are always born, so they could forever stay uncovered, untold...

Written by: Otto ’Oerath’ Timonen

Oerath, I am in awe. So many of the word groupings cause me to tumble back into time and space and find myself in those lost worlds, those silent halls. How wonderful. Some of it puts me in mind of King Arthur and of the tales that he too is in a place, sleeping as it were and any moment might spring up in full gear and come forth in power.

And Odette, anything you contribute from that fine mind of yours will be greatly appreciated.

Break the green stems of blooming roses,

Leave them black and cold in the snow,

Shatter the tall windows,

Let the many hued sun play on the broken floor.

Dim the stars,draw all the curtains,

Let feet walk no more on soft grass,burn the garden to it's withered roots.

Do not dream of the moon or sing songs of silence,

Do not weep or paint your walls blue,

Still the flutter of your heart,

In the clasp of your fist.

Stun the light of your eyes into the sea of nothingness,

Stand awhile and then leave,

For the plastic and your endless moods.

 

Well, Leelee, along the past few years, my writing has evolved from a hobby to a passion, without things like: writing, singing and music I couldn't find any inner peace, nor serenity from the daily days of life, so, I'm more than glad to share my lyrics here on PT with all of you readers and fellow poets, so it is, and so it shall be! And Odette, that was another fine poem, expecially as the first parts of it reminded me of one scene in POTO. Smile Smilie Spend a nice evening, all of you, I am going to drink a bit.

I remember writing poems in middle school , but I had no one to share them with, for not one of my friends, though we were all in the honors classes all those years, not one other wrote poetry though we all devoured the classics. So after a while I sort of fell out of the habit.

And then, as I moved into the world of words, both in law and in writing and editor positions, I found that my work became poetic prose and I was not inclined to turn to poetry at all for my own expression. But I love to read the poetry of others. I have one family member who is so gifted that his words shake me to the very core of my being. He is marvellous.

Well I look forward to any and all contributions. And for anyone else who may read this thread, please think about sharing as well. Two lines put together that convey something  that can touch the heart or mind of another are two lines worth having on this thread.

The silence cradles the whispering bones of chaos,

As the leaves outside imprint ghastly faces on the coloured glass,

Somewhere bolts fall as clamouring doors are shut,

And in the dense air,hangs the muteness of clapping hands,

For as day begins to draw it's folds,

The life that was born that morning starts to wane,

And over the cold smooth air comes the voice I had felt,

Asking me for what I seek.

Night stands deaf,close at the doors,

Like wayfarers in the pursuit of light,

And my imagination sinks,

Into the falseness of genius,

Ever sinking,always still,

Deep into the chasms of my mind. 

 

 

Odette, your poems are breathtakingly beautiful and full of rich imagery. Wonderful, have you been published yet? Oerath, you have such emotion, such power and feeling. It makes me wonder just who you are and what you have walked through in this life.

I am very proud to read your poems dear ones, very proud. I am sharing them with my family, some of who are professional writers and they are quite enjoying them.

Thank you for taking the time from your busy lives to enrich ours.

Brother Wolf

 

The wolf is small, barely more than a pup,

But as it stands outside my window it

Looks like a beast.

His fur is nearly white, his ears are perked,

His head is down.

He looks to be hunting

But he doesn't move.

 

The wolf raises his head, slow and calm,

And swings it around to meet my eyes

Through the window.

His eyes are strange, they're not yellow or brown,

But ocean green.

They hold my gaze steady

And he doesn't blink.

 

The wolf disappears, a ghost in the brush,

And the spell that it wove seems to melt

Into the trees.

“Fear not the wolf child, for he is your guide,

He is your guard.

He is a companion

Though he doesn't stay.”

 

Your thoughts are always appreciated!

Thank you Leelee for your support.

My parents don't like me writing so I just write and write in secret and its building up. Shown a few of my friends.Been writing since I was tenSmile SmilieNot good at all though,wish I could learn more.

 

Estel:

Your poem is very expressive and well written.

I have saved the poem so that it can be put back in its original location on the forum following review by council.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Rednell

Thank you for your kind words, Leelee, and to mention, I'm just a unknown fellow from the southern part of Finland, but who knows, maybe I'll come up with something that will be published, but the time for that is not yet at hand. @ Odette, your last poem was very enjoyable as usually, you've magic and beauty in your words. And Fjorgyn and Estel, I did also read your lyrics/poems, they're also good in their own ways, totally different subjects and perspectives. I'll welcome every person who passes by and shares a poem or a few with us here in Writer's Guild.

A little philosophy: If I cannot write something, then I know that someone else will.

And here's one writing, this has two parts and it is a old one.

 

Winternight (The Winternight Part I)

Rain is still falling down so heavily...
My eyes are closing, the sky is slowly opening...
Is this reality...or...
Am I just dreaming...

Anyway even if this is just another dream
It seems to be so wonderful, and so real to me
I can hear wolf's howling, I can see the rain falling
I can feel the cold winds blowing, the moon is finally arising

And then only two can be heard...
Wind has already calmed, silent is the earth...
I don’t want to awake, I want to live in this dream
A howl echoes in the forests, and inside my mind

Frostwolf cries with the moon, only water rains from high above
Then it just disappears to the shadows of the winternight
Frostwolf cries with the moon, tears are dropping to the snowy ground
Then it just disappears to the shadows of the winternight

I have to rise up, before the light leaves my eyes...

I wonder where that wolf did go to...

 

A Frostwolf (The Winternight Part II)

Shadows of those long and grey trees, they seemed to grow all the time
While wind waved softly all branches of them, I heard that voice inside my head
I looked over all of those snow-white hills, but only silence answered back to me
That voice called for my name, and behind many, many trees, there was...

A frostwolf crying with the moon, only water rained down from high above
Then it just disappeared to the shadows of the winternight

I kept following the snowy path, the stars were leading me somewhere
And somehow I felt that I wasn’t alone on this glorious journey
For too long I wandered in that coldness, all life began to vanish from my soul
I was already dying, but still I wanted to believe in myself

Then all of sudden a burst of light blinded my eyes
And I saw a familiar creature howling on the hills
Then I heard that same old voice, I wondered could it be
And with the help of moonlight I saw, that the creature on the hills was...

A frostwolf crying with the moon, only water rained down from high above
Then it just disappeared to the shadows of the winternight
And as it was gone, so was the winternight, and I was given a new chance
A chance to live again


Written by: Otto ’Oerath’ Timonen

The passion and depth of feeling in everyone's work is stellar. I mean it. Now I don't know what the big guys will say about that one particular word, it is a site for little kiddies as well. I have to check.

But honestly, all of you, I hope you keep a journal and date it and write and write and go back after some months and see how you have grown, what you have come through, where you are going. For always, in my opinion, when we put pen to paper, unless we are the most dishonest of folk, something of us is left on that once ghostly white page. And it tells us something of ourselves which, to my mind is a wondrous thing.

Leelee have I written anything wrong?

Not at all, no, no , no. I was referring to two of the wonderful contributions of others. I am new at this and was just not sure about a couple of things. I am currently harassing the powers that be on this site to learn what is acceptable and what is not , since every site has its own rules, some are stringent and some not so much. Smile Smilie 

To be mentioned, Odette and Leelee, I never studied english or even formal ways of grammar, I've come this far with self-studying methods, but I guess I could take some courses or something to gain a bit more knowledge about these kind of things, same goes for my instrumental play and singing.

So, my use of words and building of sentences may be a bit weird to some of you, but that's still the way I write, and as you may have noticed, most of my lyrics/stories follow a lyrical line, combined with song elements and fantasy, but, I've talked enough for now, so here's another piece of tale.

 

Tales from the realm of secrets and legends

Chapter V : The Ancients of Dragonflights

 

It is so calm now, silence can be heard everywhere

But if you listen carefully, then you can hear the clapping of their wings

Only a few of us have seen those dragons in all of their glory and might

Do you remember all of the stories that were told at fire in the night

 

And if you truly remember the days of old

Then you know, how all of those stories and legends were born

 

Writings in the ocean shaped sand

Beauty of the northern lands

I long to see the immortal and blood red shores once more

 

O’ Mother Earth, wash this whole world with the rain

Gift of the sky so blue and grey

Call forth the might of all storms and seas

And tell to all of us, how the ancients of dragonflights came to be

 

‘Long ago, when even the sun was still young, four great and wise dragons arrived to

the borders of this land, and all of the guardians knew about their coming, because clapping of their giant and scaly wings reached even the most distant corners of Arcadian.’

 

‘And I sent one of my messengers to spread the word about the arrival of those dragons, for a meeting would be held at the hall of whispers and quietness. First came all of the guardians, after them came the demigods, Saergos, Vorelth and Urdarf, and with them came all of their followers, and servants of both the mother earth and the guardians. Then came the high council of trees, wisest of all beings, and just before the beginning of the meeting, all of the clouds gave way, as Odin rode on the back of Sleipnir across the sky, and as he landed to front of the hall of whispers and quietness, all of the others lowered their heads down and bowed to him, and then he spoke: ‘There’s no need to bow, rise up, all of you, and look up to the sky, for I’ve given life to four mighty dragons, who will be known as the ancients of dragonflights, the first dragons of Arcadian.’

 

And so they all celebrated, and praised the gift of Odin and the gods of north

And as the dragons descended down from the skies to greet the mightiest of Arcadian, nearly all of them were overwhelmed by the glory and beauty of these dragons, and thus, only The Mother Earth and The Guardians were able to speak with them.

 

And so The Ancients of Dragonflights flied away to seek out a perfect land, where they could settle down and build their own kingdom, their new home. And then Odin left the same way as he had come in the first place, and none of them saw any of the dragons after that, but both The Mother Earth and all of The Guardians knew one thing, a day would arise, when The Ancients of Dragonflights would come and show forth all of their glory and might to this world.

 

So, that is their story, and it is also said, that they found a way to The Land of Evergreen, a legendary land where no road or path leads, it’s entire area has been cloaked with mist since the beginning of times, and it is also said to be surrounded by high mountains and cliffs, and there’s only one person who could confirm all of this, and that person is Oerath, for he has been there more than once.

 

Written by: Otto ‘Oerath’ Timonen

Leelee check the time of your last post in this threadSmile Smilie

*lol* Well spotted, Odette! 

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