Frail old man in a frail bone house;
Brittle-bodied weakling mouse.
Breath rattles like a ghost,
Your limbs fail you when you need them most.
The blood is thick behind your eyes;
Eggshell fists and leaden thighs.
The ages heavy weigh you down;
Inside your own wet lungs you drown.
No steady rhythm beats your heart;
The drummer’s wearied in his art.
Once mighty hero heavy fallen
To no greater foe than step mis-trodden.
Patreon Reward: Herald’s Gift– RivkaZ 2015
A poet from Down Under bred,
Magnificent, from toe to head!
Their mighty pen the sword did fear,
Their words did many a heart endear!
Who could an army with wit forestall?
Who with their brain full epics recall?
Bright, befreckled, and red of head,
“Ril! Ril!” by all was said.
Cheers to my excellent and generous patron! ❤ Thank you endlessly for your continued support, ingenuity, and enThûsiasm!
My stars will light the way to see, but who will watch the living be?
Their deeds below my eyes perceive, but what shall all they living breathe?
What’s green I’ll grow to give them air, but what to drink for all that’s there?
I will water and wash the land, but upon what shelf will all they stand?
I’ll forge the earth beneath their feet, but pray, what will the living eat?
The beasts for hunting I shall give, but on which fare shall beasts then live?
On blooming leaves they’ll be refreshed, but how then will the living rest?
My dreams shall shepherd them to sleep, but where and who shall their souls keep?
By name I’ll call them when they go, but how will the remaining know?
I’ll send them grief and pity’s weal, but how then shall the living heal?
Their forms to vigor I’ll return, but once that’s done, how shall they learn?
With memories woven and kept alive, but is thought alone how they shall thrive?
Nay I’ll lend them love and hope’s delight! But by what fire will their souls ignite?
Mine is the fire that breeds change and desire; but what of we who made the world entire?
That, beloved, only Eru knows, and will keep until the world’s close.
“Yea but the old rebel sea has not yielded
Nor yoked not bent or to the will of men ceded;
And not for weal nor for love be he gelded;
Ye oaths to the water, fisherfolk, go unheeded,
For the sea is his own, to the end, undefeated.”
”I have known enchantment for the sea
for coasts of citrine, emerald, lazuli,
in the bounty fishers reap,
and in terror of the deep.
For every ship may but the surface glide,
the sailor’s muse seen mirrored in her tide,
yet life beneath writhes frenzied, brisk, and bleak
or else devoured slow, with hooks and beak.
Of these twain aspects I, both, admire;
Two sides of the sea’s dichotomous empire,
to them equally my heart bequeath:
the jeweled surface, and the dread beneath.”
*splashes*
I know that ages passed since this giveaway, but there were a lot of stuff which kept me away from this (including losing a half of the transcription) I wanted to do that in my handwriting, but it came out ugly and hard to read, so I decided to put it here like this. I am sorry for making you wait for so long and I thank you for your patience. I hope it is done properly, for English isn’t my first language…
OH MY GOSH! 8’D SO AWESOME! Thank you so much! ❤ ❤ ❤
“Thees” and “dees” may aim to please,
But eths and thorns stick with you.
Her ghost came in with the tide
And the trails of her wedding shawl
Were weeds and a wet white winding sheet
Of a bride more fair than them all.
The great grey wave scored the heavens
And pulled down a star in its curl;
The lords of the land ought tremble
When the sea gives up its pearl.
The water wed many such wives;
Great queens who when sunken, bore wings;
Judgment lies in the bright silver knives
Of their eyes fixed accusing at kings.
The highest of hands drowned the mighty
When Man sought out what was banned;
But the lords of the land ought tremble
When she walks on the quicksilver strand.
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 