Leelee, I am reading things like Ivanhoe, the Scarlet Pimpernel, the Three Musketeers, and others such as these.....many more! Your encouragement and flattering is more than I can take! I am literally jumping in excitement! My love for writing has flared violently, since you talked with me! Is it all right if I get you email address, I am writing a longer story and maybe you can help me with it..... !!

Oerath, thanks anyway. Your poems are great. I will be working on a Tolkien related one to post here soon.

Yeah, well I am not so busy, but working daily from monday to friday adds more bits to my usual tiredness.

I just cannot help it, my sleep rhythm is really what it is. ^^

Now having said that about Arcadian stuff, I shall get back to it, but not immediately. I have that grand poem under works now.

my poem about prejudice

Different 

I am alone in the dark

No-one to guide me, no-one to care.

I feel broken inside,

I'm incomplete in life.

No matter where I turn

Scorn chases me away.

I am who I am,

I didn't make myself so.

You never gave me a chance,

Instead you looked then turned.

But I am human just like you

I look different, nothing more.

But you judge by look,

You do not think of me

And so I am alone

So alone due to you.

It isn't my fault

I was made as such,

Different on out, same within.

I do not laugh, I only cry.

Difference is bad

Difference causes pain,

People do not think,

That I feel like you.

I do not look the same,

So you just condemn me,

To a life alone,

With no-one to turn to,

Just fate and tears...

                                 Lady Alyss

I am having a difficult time trying to express what I meant in this poem. The best possible way to describe the 'message' is the want to give up but the will to go forward through everything. I didn't want to give the wrong impression, so I thought I would clear that up just in case. Hope you enjoy. 

A tear sifts over the pastel face,

Stained in mourn of those, the lost. 

The road to death is not a race, 

A path for those whose hearts cannot;    

Cannot contain the pain inside, 

Cannot remain in silent hide. 

Who are we to try compare. 

We cannot feel the hurt that’s theirs. 

The will to live, 

The want to die, 

Who are we to hold their lives. 

Take no more, the pain is great.

 Shall we leave them now to only wait. 

To wait for those whose time has passed,

 For time of theirs is passing still. 

But do they let their soul to rest?

 Nay! Though pain is yet to fill. 

They walk past death,

 Walk past the grave.

 So take their hand and leave them safe. 

Walk beside If dark the day. 

Though Hades may yet bar the way.

 Hold them if the lay to rest,

 Wake them if theres nothing left.

 Life is hurt, but death is more. 

The pain will fade,

 The emptiness replaced,

 Not in full, but just a breath, 

Until they see the open door...

Fahvier, 

yes i do i have many of them which one's do you want me to share with you can you tell me. i'll give you the titles and you can pick which one you want me to send to you okay

1.Our vivid Personalities

2.My Pristine Deceptions

3."The Book Of Revelatioons

*You can pick which one and i will be more than happy to send them to you for you to read

thnx

I am fairly new to poetry, so it's a little rough, but I'd love to improve, so please, offer advice, point out problems/mistakes and places to improve, etc!

This poem is from the point of view of a young elf who is shocked and confused by what some men would do for fame. In his eyes, it is folly. Elven songs to him seem always to tell of matters of the heart, while the songs of men tell of great heroes who died glorious deaths in battle with fierce enemies. It is, perhaps not obviously, about the races of Middle-Earth.

Of dragon's song,

Of golden fire,

Of men who to glory aspire,

Who claim the right to right and wrong,

And dare to sing the dragon's song,

Of them do song,

And poem tell,

Those heroes who for glory fell.

The lives of men, they last not long,

And so, they say, to sword belong.

Mortal men fight,

For glories past,

From life's first breath to very last.

"For glory live, for glory die!"

The sons of men shall ever cry.

Of golden song,

Of dragon's fire,

Do minstrels sing with flute and lyre.

A man would fight a thousand strong,

To die a death worthy of song.

a good poem Rukain.

Oerath, reading your work always makes my day, every poem and story of yours echoes through my mind long after i have read it. T's the sign of a good poet /writer.

Here is another short one of my own.

Lady Alone

Mercilessly conquering all,

Traveling swiftly, alone but free

Caressing child, master of all.

Controlled though she is,

By those above.

She controls those beneath.

Howling silently through the sky,

Howling gently through the tree.

People keep from her, fear her.

People turn from her,

Unloved is she, lonely Lady.

Lady of the darkness.

                                                     Lady Alyss

Good to see both of you, LadyAlyss and Fahvier. I'm very glad you enjoyed of that work.

Lady, your offering is good as always. A good read in many ways.

I'll leave this post short, 'cause I'm feeling quite sleepy + I'm quite, well, you know me. ^^

I would also like to encourage our new members to write more. A little quote by me:

'When you write, the sky should be your only limit. Do not hesitate and do not delay. Always deliver it with passion and style, even if you cannot see the splendor of your work with your own eyes.'

I'll continue writing of my grand poem tomorrow, if possible. So, good night.

            A recent poem of mine, I named it, The Song of the Moontide.               

Oh, early on,

Ere the land was marred,

The magic gone,

And the earth so scarred,

There was a time,

When all was young,

Oh, the moon did shine,

As oft is sung!

Oh, that sphere in the sky,

From which tales have sprung!

He glowed so bright,

And conquered all.

For in the night,

When the owl gave call,

The earth was covered with silver light,

Alas, the Moon was very young,

And without knowledge or foresight,

His plans to rise in power, far-flung,

                                                                  For he relied upon his might.

The Ocean, then, the Moon did clasp,

In order to test his strength,

The waves beneath were in his grasp,

He pulled them to great length.

Twice each day he brought them in,

And twice he let them out.

So vigorously did he begin,

 That from the waves he did force out,

The magnificent mare and stallion!

And they leapt on shore to run about.

Thundering foothills,

Thundering plains,

Thundering hoof beats,

Cloudy white manes!

The Ocean is surging,

The breakers, they roar,

Thundering horse hoofs,

 From the Ocean floor!

Yeah, well done, Wenlesael. As I already said: Keep it up. You've some potential for such a young person.

Now, as for my doings: As you folks probably know, I enjoy of silence every now and then, and novadays, I write when I want to, and this time is no exception. I've been thinking about another Norse-themed poem, and it will be called:

'And like the wind, he rides across the roaring waves'

I've some school stuff to do, so I won't be writing that today, but maybe tomorrow or day after tomorrow. It's going to be quite poetic and striking.

Yeah, well spoken, Leelee. I agree with you,

By the way, as I said, I've some new poetry, but today, I realized it's true concept. It's about love. In a good and nordic way.

It tells a tale of Rókhar Ironhand and Elewyn Silverhair. Two nordic warriors, who fell in love with each other, when they were at their twenties. And since of that day, they had served Thor for nearly two full decades. But on Elewyn's 42th birthday, she fell in battle, and this tragic death caused all of the other things and events that were to come in near future. Leading up to Rókhar's death. (PS. I know it's a hard concept for younger people to read, but my works don't involve gore or such things. It's not too detailed in that field, O' Council. So I guess I've the green light on this? ^^)

So, this is:

In the Memory of Rókhar Ironhand and Elewyn Silverhair

'This part tells about the day, when Elewyn died. Rókhar tries to write a letter to Elewyn's parents, to tell them about her death.'

Part I : Will she sleep for an eternity (Rókhar's thoughts about Elewyn)

I used to have so many tales to tell

But after the day when you fell..

I couldn't even think about them..

Anymore.. Anymore..

And as I now write this letter to your parents

None of it's content makes any sense..

I am still deeply in love with you, no matter what I do or say..

I hope that you know.. I hope that you know..

We had so many things to do, so many journeys left, so many unspoken words

And here I just stand and wonder if you will ever return

Return.. Return..

And as I walk down the windy path that leads to your forest grave

I try to close my eyes, and become one with the silence, but I can only think about things too painful to say

My hands are shaking, and my eyes are full of tears, I've four thoughts upon my mind..

'Will you sleep for an eternity, my love? Will you sleep until the very end of times?

'Will you be there when I've to go? Will you be there, when I've to leave this world far behind?'

'Just like the previous one, this part tells about Elewyn and about her feelings for Rókhar. And though she would like to meet him again, she still hopes that he would carry on with his life, and not give in to grief and despair.'

Part II : And like the wind, he rides across the roaring waves (Elewyn's thoughts about Rókhar)

There he stands in front of my grave

But he doesn't know that I am still here

Even though I now exist as a lesser spirit, I can still see, feel and hear..

My days are so long without you, my love

There's nothing here in the golden halls of Valhalla

To replace the joys of life..

I long to see you once again, but I know that your life must go on

So, here I just stand in the embrace of morning rain

Hoping that you still do remember this song..

'And like the wind, he rides across the roaring waves

Seeking for new challenges, for new journeys..

And for something that could change the course of his sorrowful days

But what if all of his deeds have been in vain

What if he cannot live without those painful memories..

Only the gods know the real truth, but it is so clear..

He cannot live without his beloved muse..'

Part III : A cry of victory

'And this part, it's events occur a year after Elewyn's death, and on a misty morning, Rókhar and his men heard a battle cry. And it could mean only one thing. It was a call to arms. They were at war.'

On that morning, we all left our homes to serve the gods in this great war

We gathered in a small village, and brought our armors, shields and swords

And as we began to march towards the rising sun, we cried: 'Hail, in the name of Thor!'

There was no escape, no chance to turn back, upon this night, our enemies would fall!

Riding forth into the heat of battle, the brave warrior's of Midgård

Their hearts know no fear and their fighting will is unbreakable and strong

Thousands upon thousands, all of them clad in golden armors, so brightly they shine in the light of sun

A cry of victory echoes throughout every land and forest, a new era has begun

And after countless months of fighting, they finally surrounded the last of their enemies

They had sacrificed so much, and luckily those cold and rainy nights were all behind

And as Rókhar, their leader, stepped forth to face the remaining warriors of Loki

One of them challenged him, a combat to the death, and he accepted, by unsheathing his sword made of golden steel

And for long they fought, but in the end, Rókhar proved to be victorious..

But he didn't know that his enemy would do something so weak and low

He was backstabbed, and it was a fatal wound, and so, still smiling at his victory..

Rókhar, the leader of all armies of Thor did fall..

Part IV : Meant to be together in life and death

'And so Rókhar's spirit left it's mortal coil and sought out the realm of Asgård. And there, from the beginning of The Rainbow Bridge, he awoke and saw his wife, Elewyn, sitting beside him.'

And as he slowly opened his eyes.. He saw Elewyn sitting by his side

He wondered could it be real, or was this just one of his wishful dreams

But then she touched his face with her pale, but soft hand

And on that very moment, Rókhar learned the truth.. They were dead.. And so he said to her:

'I cannot believe my eyes, but if we're both truly here, then shouldn't we walk across this bridge, shouldn't we go to the golden halls? I long to see the gods that reside high above.'

'Maybe this was meant to happen, but I still hoped for you to carry on with your life. But if you're truly here, then we have one last chance to make things right.'

'I never knew that this day would really arrive, and as I now look at you, my eyes are full of tears of joy. Maybe we were meant to be together in life and death, until the very end.'

And by crossing the rainbow bridge, they finally arrived to the golden halls

And by bowing before Odin, he gave them the blessing of all gods

So much suffering, so many battles behind, so many journeys to make, so many hidden treasures to find

There are so many things that they both left behind, they've so many things to understand..

But instead of accepting it all at once.. They just smiled and crossed their hands

'Even death cannot keep us apart from each other!'  they cried, and the sky answered. And as it began to rain, Rókhar looked at Elewyn, and as she nodded, they both cried for one last time:

'Let the journey begin!'

The End.

Written by: Otto 'Oerath Windsoul' Timonen

Thanks, Lady. I'm glad you liked of it. I didn't plan it to become that long, but I guess it's fine. It's one of those story poems.

Now with that work done, I will focus on that grand poem. So far, I've written it during my free time at work and before going to sleep, it's all in my phone's office/notebook.

Another very short one of mine

Fly no more

I feel the intense heat at my feet,

I turn and see another fall;

Screaming silently as it went.

I turn back in horror, afraid of fate.

As It comes closer I start to pray

That my family is safe and not dead

And that I may escape somehow.

It corners me against the wall.

I gulp and look up to heaven,

Then It sprays me,

My wings flop and I fall,

Fall into devoid darkness…

                                                          Lady Alyss

Good to see you, Leelee and thanks. As for you, LadyAlyss. Good as always. I am not so descriptive as Leelee, but I enjoy of your entries. Each of them has something interesting.

It's sunday tomorrow, and time to do some posts. One last good deed before a new week approaches.

I have learned that at times it's hard to keep some promises, but this time I'll write a new chapter of story and a new entry of journey.

That was amazing Lady, very interesting.

Oerath dear, you put too much upon yourself, just do what you can when you can. That is enough and well appreciated.

Very nicely done, Fahvier. I think you should write more pieces like this one. It was a good read.

Btw, Leelee (Racheeel!) I did heed the words of advice, and I've rested well and from now on, I'll take my time with these projects. I did write some new stuff, but with these busy days, I'm going to take it easy and edit them with time and care. So, some posts to follow some day this week.

I've been working on lyrics for my first song 'No Time to Mourn'. It's good so far. Melancholic stuff.

I think I'll post 'em this evening, so you'll know what is to come.

The Oerath Windsoul-Project : No Time To Mourn

Sleep.. You've to dream..

It is said that some dreams can heal..

Heed the voice of the sister of night..

Listen to what she has to say..

But do not go close to her..

Do not become one with the silence of this unending rain..

No time to mourn..

No tears, no sorrow..

Sleep.. You've to dream..

It is said that some dreams can redeem..

Sleep.. Your life must go on..

Just close your eyes and open that door..

Written by: Otto 'Oerath Windsoul' Timonen

Oh, thanks, LadyAlyss. If I may use this quote at this point: 'If a lyric is short, it doesn't mean it can't be epic.'

So, those are song lyrics for my project's first real song, 'No Time To Mourn'.

There's a youtube link in Musician's Guild, check it out, if you want.

that poem is stunning, you can feel as you do and the yearning contained within. It is amazing. Once again Oerath, that was brilliantly done!

Well done dear prince. i felt these last two poems were more mellow, more i think something of the real Oerath that i have come to know. A little closer to earth and not so much in the vast vault of the heavens. They were refreshing and lovely. Marvellous.

Cpme Lady treat us to something more from your pretty mind and soul.  

I do not think I have posted this one yet, it isn't my best.

Fantastic as ever Oerath, you always keep my mind full of your brilliant writing

I know that grief and pain intimately Lady and I would add to that the horrific panic that can follow the emptiness when you realize that in this life you shall not behold the face of that loved one again. Very well done, very believable.

From Helgori's Saga by James Galbreath:

As they passed the ravaged house and burned out barns, Tilgi winced at the pain radiating from the ruins. Nari stared at the row of graves, the wooden markers all made at the same time in the same style of the same wood. Her fingers touched imaginary tunzumrili strings as she hummed the Lay of Ending:

The Lay of Ending

Under the green, green grass I lie, not in the world of breath and light.

Under the thick-grown sod am I, who walked and talked and woke from night.

Now walk I not nor speak a word, nor wake to see the sun ascend.

Yet you may find some wisdom stirred by my bitter or gentle end.

Each moment blessed or cursed reveals the direction your life’s trending

And fragile life most precious feels when confronted with its ending.

For as I once was where you are, out in the world of joy and pain,

You, too, will come and join with me below the Maker’s green grass lain.

So love you strong and drink you deep of the goodness which you cherish,

And give your gifts before you sleep so they shall not with you perish.

All quiet now beneath the sky, my days gone past my mending.

Under the green, green grass I lie. May the Maker bless my ending.

It was one thing to sing of brave and tragic heroes and heroines in mighty battles that turn the tide of history, and quite another to witness the forlorn ending of this family who simply wanted to plant and harvest and raise their livestock. Who would sing of their brave and futile defense of cow and corn, of house, barn and field? Who would value their lives or mourn their deaths?

Lady, this meant much to me. Waiting day by day to see if my daughter will live or die has made me rather fragile and feel a wreck. This spoke to my heart and I am sorry for the loss of so dear a friend. A hug and prayer for you dear.

Gledon, I am a trifle confused, is this your work or were you sharing another's , I could not be sure. Whoever wrote it - it is lovely and deeply descriptive. And  since you are new here in our little corner of Middle-Earth I will tell you the one rule we have here. We never critique another's offerings, for here is a sanctuary where each of us can come and bare our souls as it were and try any sort of way to express that which lies deep in the unplumbed depths of our hearts and souls. Criticism here is something that chases away those who would timidly come forth and try their hand at poetry. But if something touches us we are free to praise and tell why we praise.

Ah our young friend Wen, so full of wisdom with words for one so new to the world. I have genuinely liked every single thing you have offered in every thread you offered it in. You seem to have a rare gift of being skilled and happily gifted in both prose and poetry and that is amazing. Remember to study others you appreciate and learn the rythmn of their works, study the flow and ebb and read on other cultures and countries in the time period you love and you will become like one who walked in their midst, a native of the place time and political climate and that will make your works magic and authentic. Wonderful. You know I have a dear friend in China, a professorial type who is also the most amazing artist and he tells fabulous stories of his childhood and the people around him with both written stories and his art work. His name is Wenzali but he is called Wen. It strikes me as wondrous that he is of a great age and you are a budding flower, both so talented and yet so different. Thank you, each of you for sharing and enriching this site.