Hullo. Ah, back here. Nice. I hereby re-open the poetry realm. Come, if that is your wish. I shall be here, giving away poetic treats once more, but.. only on rare occasions. This is a poem I wrote today morning, while listening to several songs by Nox Arcana from their 'Winter's Majesty' album. I've not released it anywhere else, and plan not to do that in a while. It may end up on some future collection, though.
Needless to say, their music has been an important part of my life for over ten years now. Same goes for Arcana (there's just something divine about that, I guess, coincidentally so.. or not?)
It actually makes a lot of sense now, why I originally chose to name my first storyworld 'Arcadianth'. Ah, I just love music. And writing. And art. Stay awesome, folks of the PT!
In the arcane arts of magic I trust!
The legend will live on, even though time my being will rust!
The Magic Forest of King Winter
Enter the forest most enchanting, pale and snow-white,
where the winds and moonlight each night unite,
teardrops of the sky, fall, draw my shadowy being unto the snow,
as I bow down, let me send these hails beyond this time, fly, fly o' great grey crow.
Bring a feeling of belonging to the scene, ye croaks offer peace, a promise serene
is made under the moon, under her watchful eyes, this time no tears are shed,
as it's wings send forth a hypnotizing wave of sound, which makes all of trees
shake snow off their leaves and branches, broken is the silence of Winter, as they begin to sing.
Blessed be this evening full of magic and wonder, now even the spirits tell me to look yonder,
beyond my shoulders, for there ghosts from the past covered in ice boldly ride the clouds of the skies,
which seem to have turned bright blue for the first time..
during this hopefully black night, as I slowly leave the magic forest..
Only to return another time, I am in need of rest, yet away for long I could not possibly stay,
may the rule of His Majesty, King Winter.. be forever divine,
let tomorrow offer solace to those, who believe that each passing day..
offers us a chance to greet the gods, as it was meant to be, face them.. drink from their holy water shrines..
Of which purity imbued together with the crystallized beauty of mana will energize your blood,
and grant more warmth within to burn the mind, come another occasion, I will set out to find..
the last secrets under the fullest of all moons, where no flowers bloom, nor life oft laughs,
there I walk in cover of the night, wearing my grey robes and hood,
after the nightfall, to hide, I choose to share a bough with blackbirds, the eerie nightshade gatherers.
Written by: Oerath Windsoul
PS. Let there be 'night'.