I never believed I would survive thus far
Nor did I have any notion of surviving henceforth
For the vast purple gloom that stretched before us
And the horrors that had befallen us before
Seethed away my sanity
Yet, we pressed on
From sheer desperation
To utter despair
We pressed on
Read the short story the poetry is based on here
Poems are usually inspired by what you observe, or the emotions that you feel, from real life. But I have discovered, for a while now, that you can create beautiful poems from your imagination, as well. My fantasy world, for instance, is rich in conflict and varied in environments, so I figured I’d create fictional poems about the Universe of ‘The Book of Legacy’.
I experimented at first with regular poems, but it gradually developed into a hybrid between a fictional journal and fiction poetry. Basically, it was a journal written in poetic verse.
I put it up on writingforums.com and people seemed to like it. But they found it hard to read more than a few verses at the time, for such is the nature of poetry, to be read and absorbed one at the time. So, I decided to make it entirely into a fictional journal about an important event from the lore of ‘The book of Legacy’. An event that happened long before the era that my novel takes place in.
However, I very much like my poems, so while I’m polishing the short story journal, I will post some of the verses that are as vague as I could make them – so to not spoil anything.
I purposely left out key facts to add to the mystery and the intrigue of the story, but some things will be explained in the fictional journal once it’s finished – but not everything. I want to leave room for the readers to imagine themselves what really happened without making it confusing and convoluted.
Anyway, I hope that you will enjoy my little experiment and I would appreciate any feedback along the way.
Fire rained over her head; sparkles of light glistering as the gears crashed against one another. Her life’s work all in ruin.
What is originality? but a copy of something already existing?
They say that no thought is truly original,
And always stem from something already seen
I believe nature was the first source to our creativity
To our imagination
Then it is no surprise why it took tens of thousands of years before our society evolved beyond animilasim
Nor is it any surprise in which rate our society evolves today
Faith is a difficult word
A word but a few can truly claim to understand
For faith requires utter acceptance to that which we cannot see
That which we cannot touch
Someone with faith cannot waver to argument
Cannot be threatened with facts
People with faith do not have to prove to someone lacking thereof to validate one’s faith
Nor do the lacking thereof have to validate theirs
Faith is a beautiful thing for those that truly accepts it
A proclamation of love to the unknown
However, faith is often claimed by those that are the most uncertain
The most easily corrupt
The most vile creatures that every existed
Their temples surely cursed
Their civilisation surely backwards
Yet the destruction they inflicted… inconceivable
Another lore poem from my fantasy novel. This time, it’s about a people shrouded in mystery. The destroyers of worlds they say. Yet, their presence and legacy vanished into fairytales and legends.
Vile are the mixers of the blood
The betrayers of the race
Another teaser for my novel. It speaks of the so-called ‘tainted’, a people which eyes are no longer the colours of the prime
The wind roared from high above
The anger seething through his skin
The sand piercing through his pores
His mind filled with only regret
It was oddly calming, being confined in this room, with nowhere to go and nothing to see; nothing to do but wait and to contemplate.
The knife pierced through his flesh, burrowing deeper and deeper until only the handle stuck out of his chest. The victim gurgled as his lungs filled with blood and with one last act of desperation, he grabbed the handle and tried to pull it out. But all his strength soon seethed out of him and his hands fell to the side.
Standing above the victim, a man watched the fruitless struggle with fascination as the light vanished from the victim’s eyes. His whole body trembled with both excitement and fear. His eyes unblinking – like the victims.