TheOneTrueProphet

Liars and sinners Run amuck in a world filled with hate Murderers, thieves Where have they come from? Who cares? Who knows? They degrade their fellow man And fill our hearts with hate But is anyone listening Does anyone care Or Are we as corrupt as them? Our politicians lie and say everythings okay But we lie on the verge of Armageddon Our leaders hearts are as black as any thieves And yet...... No one cares We are the Damned

Agranel Shadowtree, self-appointed wizard of the Shadowtree clan, was absolutely, positively, inexplicably lost.  He'd been wandering for nearly a day in this thrice-damned forest, and the ever-lengthening shadows of the trees were giving way to an eerie twilight.  This forest was a bad place to be in at night, a fact evident even in its name, No'ere'teshai, which translated to "Bane of Man." It was a safe enough place during the day, but at night, the worst sort of creatures came out, shadow-wraiths and the ever-damnable shadow pixies.  Nothing a seasoned Order Master couldn't handle, but Agranel was far from that.  He was an order master o

Beware the gnome The little man Beware the man His clever plan He plans to meet you Maybe eat you And put you in A frying pan? His eyes are dark And full of greed As he walks Between the weeds His feet They patter Childish laughter Echoing in the air He spits and grumbles And takes a tumble Catching rats And finding bats He can't find you Or he'll make you into stew.

In the times of old when blood ran cold* men ran from shadows and hung in gallows* cast like the illusions of fear haven was nowhere near* in the darkest pits of Hell amidst the sulfur smell* there was a man once leader of his clan* doomed to live and die by fire atop the burning, rusty spire* he is born, amidst tragedy devotee of insanity* he dies alone, in a silent void his every dream destroyed*

That was then The song of a bird The bark of a fox That was then The crashing of the waves The tinkle of a spring That was then The echo in a mountain The whisper of the breeze That was then The moan of the branch The flutter of leaves That was then This is now

Poetry is like Candles on a shelf It's like Waves lapping the shore It's like The singing of birds The rustling of leaves The voice of a choir Poetry is like Love; and sadness It's like Joy; and hope It's like Happiness; and pain Regret; and fear Madness; and doubt Poetry is . . . everything.

A poise-less grace a faint distaste Your shining face is such a waste You stole my heart and my soul and now we part you've reached your goal Fun times are done and death is near I think you've won a soiled tear A wasted life beats heart long lost You stab the knife whatever the cost

The flaming sword and golden hilt Cut through a horde with thin blood spilt An ancient book lies lost in time a land once shook by things sublime A shattered past and a broken lie a thing so vast it cannot die It lies in wait a broken soul waits for the date when hells bells toll It spreads fatigue across the land controls intrigue with its right hand The one grows near who brings demise within the year you'll hear his cries He can defeat the one who rests and he will greet this unwanted guest

Kitsune: A nine tailed kitsune 1-thousand years born. Bright staring silver eyes Look out at the albino morn'. A wise, old kitsune Stalking fresh new day. Watching new translucent stars As he bows down to pray. A pensive, red kitsune Blind and deaf is he. He needs not his eyes or ears For with his heart and soul he sees. ~PensiveMoon