CAS Poems and Short Stories Thread(CAS Sponsored; Opentoall)

[Neo Rome Republic]

Hello people of nationstates! Are any of you feeling poetic or creative, if so, then this the thread for you.

If you wish to put whatever poem or short story you have on your mind, feel free to post it.

Whether it be a poem and/story of romance, horror, comedy, etc, you are free to express here your creativity however you wish.

A place where all are free to admire, observe, and take part themselves in a flow of creativity and a place for all creative minds to come together.

A place for all to inspire and become inspired themselves.

Remember to have fun and enjoy!

NOTE: This thread is open to all NS users.

It is a sponsored effort courtesy of the Confederacy of Allied States: http://www.nationstates.net/region=conf ... ied_states

With the purpose in finding and enthusiastic discovery of untapped potential and to further recognize and celebrate the skill and dedication of all.

If you are interested in perhaps helping us expand on this, then perhaps you'll check out our region.

[Neo Rome Republic]

The Abstract Painting

The universe is a canvas
I am the painter
Through it I paint my work
The work takes shape
To me the painting is solid and with purpose
To others it is abstract and meaningless
But it is beautiful and awe inspiring all the same
When others paint they see shape in their canvas
All I see is an abstraction of strange designs
But it is beautiful and awe inspiring all the same
The universe is a canvas of meaningless abstractions
But through what I can paint on it
It is beautiful and awe inspiring all the same
For when I look at their paintings
When they look at mine
We interpret it in our own visions
That are beautiful and awe inspiring all the same

[Osphen]

-Deleted-

[Yottabota]

The war began with a single bang, a bullet whizzing in the air
and on the first day of the war, the sound of sirens at full blare.
The planes and bombers filled the sky, an endless wave of bombs
though the government assured us, that it wouldn’t be all week long.

The second day of the war, the infantry marched down the streets
all lined up like dominos, they stenched of death’s foul reek.
Does the war not please the ones, who begged it to start?
Just as long as it’s not their sons, who are forced to fight the fight.

The third day of the war, all was silent in the towns
everyone had left it, not even the prisoners were bound.
Where had they all gone, had they all gone up and left?
No, they did not leave, they are simply hiding from the death.

The fourth day of the war, the sirens were at full blare
the planes were back up at the sky, fear ran in the air.
A bomb, big and grey fell from the biggest bomber jet
and what would follow next, would be centuries of pain and regret.

On the fifth day, the generals meet to end this thoughtless war
but also because the governments, could no longer fund it more.
So was the bloodshed worth it? A simple five day war?
Well just ask the dead, there are millions more.

The first missile hit and blew up a small house, with the family still inside, the next hit a market and killed several more, while the others hit random hotels and buildings. The death toll reached around 173, but I already knew that since I was the one in charge of dragging their corpses out into the street. I’m part of the Search and Rescue team, but in reality it was just a Search and Find-The-Dead team. I was there to pull out the mangled, charred and disfigured corpses out. From a woman who was missing half of her body, cooked organs spewed out from where her body split from being pulled out, to a child whose body was burnt to such a degree that just identifying the gender was a difficult task.
I got into the dusty black buggy and rode back through the borderline, between Gaza and Israel which was where I lived. My mother made the joke, that I’m cleaning up the mess this country makes… Maybe so, but it didn’t matter since my job as a “Body Collector” reached beyond the Middle East and I’d sometimes work in Asia or South America or some war torn country in Africa. With a dimly lit cigarette in my mouth, the nicotine filled narcotics calmed my nerves during these times, I made my way past border control, showing the guards my Israeli passport before entering. As I made my way past the wall, I noticed something on the walls… Shades of brown were smeared on the walls… But it wasn’t dirt or waste… It was blood. Dried blood smeared on the walls by the bodies that littered the floors, covered in maggots and flies. I shivered a little, shaking the sick feeling in my stomach as I drove on by. As I made it closer to home, I noticed something that struck me as disturbing. The citizens, they weren’t scared or terrified by what was going on outside, because the Iron Dome protected them. They knew they’d never get hurt by the dumb fired missiles, so they’d sometimes sit on the hill overlooking Gaza and watch as their government fired missiles back and cheer when they saw the inferno erupt where the missile struck. It made me sick.
I unlocked the door to my apartment, the door swung open and I deeply sighed as I dropped my bag near the couch and began to strip down to my bare essentials, down to my bra and underwear. I gathered the clothes I had been waiting, shoved them into a metal bin, doused them in gasoline and placed the bin outside and lit it on fire. I allowed the cloths to burn to ash and then waited for the bin to cool down before dumping the ash out on the curb and brought the bin back inside. I then stripped and stepped into the shower to take a long, warm shower. I placed my hands on the tiled walls as the water cascaded down my face, breasts and stomach. The dried blood on my face made the clear water muddy with the color of blood. I suddenly began to breath heavily, the fear and panic finally settled into my system and I collapsed to my knees. I tried to block out the images of blood and gore, of charred carcasses and rotten flesh.
It was because of my job that I became a minority in Israel, an atheist. After all the dead bodies, all the slaughter and chaos, I refused to believe that any sort of god would allow this. This war, these conflicts are all because of such frivolous things; we kill in the name of some imaginary omnipotent being. I wrapped myself in a towel and stuck another cigarette into my mouth as I stepped out onto the balcony, puffing out small clouds of toxic smoke.
The next day came with another volley of rockets, an artillery shelling here and a drone strike there. I drove past a small family, their goods and possessions stuffed in the back of a pick up as they scrambled to escape the country. I just kept my eyes on the roads, but I could see the small child that was sitting on the lap of her mother whose face was obscured by a black head piece. As soon as I got a few meters away from them, the car erupted into flames and the ground shook as they were struck by a missile. I gripped the wheel, the rubber squeaking under my hands as I fought the urge to go back and help them. They were already dead, I’ll just come back for them later…
The only thing that sucks more than shoveling up dead bodies was washing them off the walls. Sometimes the missiles would directly hit someone, and their body would explode, organs, flesh and blood covering the walls next to them. I hosed off some cooked grey matter off the walls, readjusting my gas mask and picked up my shovel to scoop us the other bits and pieces. We’d load the dismembered parts onto trucks to be cremated, while bodies that were roughly attached and identifiable were shipped to a place to be buried or something along those lines. The organs were used as food for the dogs, and the flesh was just burnt along with the limbs and unidentifiable bodies. Was it humane? I’m not the person you should be asking, considering I only do what I’m told. The procedure is different depending on where I worked, the worse the fighting in the area, the more inhumane it becomes. In Somalia, I had to stack bodies in a pile and douce them all with gasoline, and in more stable countries like the US or Mexico it was always a simple grab, tag and ship em to their parents or relatives.
I took off my mask and sighed as I took out another cigarette, a co-worker sat beside me on the hood of the pickup truck that was going to deliver the limbs. He was a dark haired man from Germany, who had come to Israel with his wife and child. His names was Albert, and he always brought some sort of dark humor to this job that’d always bring my spirits up somewhat… But today there was no laughter at the expense of others, right now there was silence as we smoked our troubles away.
“Isabel…” He muttered my name and I turned toward him, his eyes were dim like mine, his accent was fading.
“Yeah Al?”
“This fucking sucks…” he blew out smoke and I scoffed
“No shit sherlock… But it’s our job after all…”
“Yeah yeah, but sometimes I really wish I had taken that “Humanitarian” job back in Berlin… At least then I’d see less corpses” I chuckled and stared at the ground.
“When I first took this job, my mother flipped… I had gone to medical school and everything to be a nurse, but in the end I was just picking up corpses and burning them… At least it pays good is what I told her.” I smirked and continued to smoke, my eyes were heavy and my nose stung with the rancid smell of decaying bodies.
“Heh… Well how about after work, we go to a bar and get drunk off our asses, should keep our minds off of this for a while” I grinned and looked up at him “But I must warn you, I’ve never lost a drinking game in my life”
“Oh you are so on…” I leaned back on the windshield of the car and sighed, then the ground shook and we both groaned “Guess that’s our cue to get going, you go get these dropped off at the spot, I’ll go over and investigate the damage. I’ll radio in if it’s nothing or if it’s a mess” He nodded and with that we split up, driving off in two different directions. As soon as I got to the sight, I slammed on the breaks, my eyes widened in somewhat disbelief. So many little bodies… I grabbed the receiver in the dashboard and radioed Albert. “Yo Al…”
“Yeah Izzy? How bad is it?”
“Lots of kids… We’re gonna need to make a few runs…”
“Shit… It hit a preschool? Alright uh… Just let the authorities handle the people, I’ll be back with Henry and Jay.”
“Roger that…” I lit another cigarette and watched as horrified parents ran to the demolished school, dragging out the broken and bloodied bodies of their children… “Man I really need that drink now “ I muttered as mothers and fathers hugged their dead children, but where then pulled away by the military police. Some pushed them off and ran back to their children, while others complied and sobbed to themselves. I crushed the third cigarette, starting up my fourth as the night sky arrived; the moon kicked the sun out of the sky and the stars went back to their spots. Albert came not long after, with Henry on the bulldozer and Jay with another pick up. I got out of the car and turned on my hard helmet light, and so did the everyone else. We picked up the small bodies that were dragged out, while Henry went to work, lifting the rubble up and stacking them up in a pile to the side. We picked up the crushed bodies and brought them up to the truck. As I searched through the rubble, I found a small booklet, slightly burnt and covered in dust. I brushed it off and opened it, in it were the names of all 20 students, a year book of some kind, above each name was a picture of the student. I showed it to Jay and he went to work pulling the identifiable bodies and laid them down, shoulder to shoulder. He got out a few zip ties and name tags, and two pens, one for me and one for him. We looked at the book and began to tag the children, one by one. 12, 9, 11, 13, 8, another 9, 7, another 11, 14, another 11, 10, another 10, another 10, another 8, another 7, another 9, another 9, another 12, another 10 and finally another 11. We were able to identify them all, amazingly, and good since I didn’t want to watch little kids burn. We radioed in the ID squad and waited for them to come, placing the tagged bodies in body bags to prevent the flies from getting at them. The white van came over with two paramedics came out and thanked us, while the others went back to their car, I stayed and watched the two men carry each body into the back of the van. Once they were done, I had already started my fifth cigarette. One of them walked over and tapped me on the shoulder, I looked over and he pointed to my cigarette. He was either too nervous to ask me or just didn’t want to talk and I really couldn’t blame him for that… I took out a cigarette out of a carton on my pant’s leg and handed it to him, then lit it. He did a little bow and got in the truck with his partner and they drove off with the tagged bodies, leaving me alone with the rubble. I looked up at the sky, the sun had set and the moon had taken it’s place. I sighed softly as I walked to my buggy, started the engine and drove back home, my eyes stung as the tears began to build up.
“Dammit… God dammit… Just… Just keep driving… Hold it, hold it til we get home… Just gotta get home…” I sped past the crowds of migrating people and quickly got through the border. I parked my buggy in the parking lot behind the apartment, and ran inside to the top floor, which was my apartment level and slammed the door closed once I got in. I collapsed to my knees and began to cry heavily, the empty eyes of all those children. There was nothing I could’ve done, nothing at all and that’s what killed me inside. This sense of helplessness that had found it’s way and permanently settled in my brain, constantly telling me how vain my efforts were. I hated it, I hated everything…
After my breakdown subsided, I burnt my cloths and took a long cold shower to calm my nerves. Then smoked half a pack of cigarettes before getting dressed in casual wear and went back downstairs to meet Al at the bar. I put on a sleek black dress, it went all the way down to my shins, and went into my small blue car that I used when I wasn’t working. I drove a few miles to the bar me and Al usually go after a stressful day.I parked my car on the curb and walked into the bar, and was met by the drunken grin of Henry.
“EH! It’s Izzy! H-H-How you doin’?!” He grabbed my shoulders and shook me a little, I pried him off and he fell back down. “Booooooo”
“Henry, drunk already I see”
“I’m n-not drunk… Just inebriated”
“Do you even know what that means”
“No clue sweetie”
“Exactly.” I sighed and walked over to the bar table, next to Al and Jay who were already on their second beer, “started without me boys, I’m hurt” Al chuckled and Jay simply sipped his beer.
“We started to get a headstart, not even the irish could beat you in a drinking contest.” Jay muttered and looked at me, a slight blush across his nose. I winked at him, and he quickly went back to his drink. Him and I had a little… Encounter a few weeks ago and I still think his back is all scratched up, though it’s his fault after all, I did tell him to be gentle. I called over the bar tender and he gave me a White Russian to start, and smirked and down the mixture down in mere seconds.
“Stronger, I don’t wanna remember tonight… Or today at all” I grinned and the tender rolled his eyes as he handed me a tall glass filled with a blue liquor. I looked at both Jay and Al and raised my cup. “Let’s drink the night away boys.” Al raised his drink
“I’m game.” Then Jay did as well
“Why the fuck not, we're all going to AA, might as well crash the train on the way there.” we all smiled and downed our drinks.

“BEEEEP… BEEEEP… BEEEEP… BEEEEP…” My eyes slowly opened as my alarm rang louder than usual. My head felt like it was filled with a thousand pissed off bees, and my body felt weak for some reason. I sat up in my bed, the covers rolled off my body and revealed my naked body to the room. I blushed a little, small little red marks ran from my neck all the way down to my more sacred area. I looked around and found the still asleep, naked body of Jay, an arm still clinging to my waist. I placed a hand on my head and collapsed back on the bed…
“Ah shit… Jay… Jay…” I pushed his head a little and he woke up, rubbing his eyes.
“Uh… My fucking head… Wait… Izzy? What are yo…” He looked at me, my breast exposed to him and then lifted the covers and sighed deeply. “We did it again didn’t we…” I nodded and he groaned “so that’s why my back hurts again…”
“Your fault for being so big…”
“Your fault for having claws for nails…”
“Your fault for being so…” I blushed a little “hot…” I muttered and stood up, wrapping myself in a towel. He looked at me and blinked,
“w...What was that?”
“J-Just shut up and get dressed, I’m gonna take a shower… And some pills” He muttered the last bit as I scooted my way to the shower. I stepped into the shower and moaned as the hot water hit my back, my mind was still spinning as the hangover left but still left me dizzy…

I parked my buggy up against the side of the road, Al was right behind me in his pickup. I got out and examined the scene in front of me. Six bodies, all burnt beyond recognition and maimed by the shrapnel. I sighed, none of them were children though, which made me feel disgustingly happy. I put on my thick rubber gloves and picked up my shovel and went to work. Al leaned against my buggy and watched me work.
“You just gonna sit and watch?” I grunted as I picked up a severed arm and tossed it in the back of the truck.
“What happened between you and Jay last night?” I nearly tripped over a rock when he said that, I dug my shovel in the ground the help me back up. I could tell he was smirking under his mask.
“What uh… What are you talking about” a light blush went across my face, “Just forget about it, I kind of want to be done before they start another rocket vo-” I stopped mid sentence as a faint whistle rang in my ears. My eyes widened and I dropped my shovel, “AL MOV-” An ear shattering explosion and a shock wave knocked me to the ground, leaving me covered in dirt and something warm. My ears rang as I opened my eyes and looked around, the smell of smoke and fire violated my senses. I sat up and looked at my arms and body… I was covered in blood… My eyes widened as I looked at where Al was standing… Waist and legs, guts spilling out of the top was all that was left… I screamed… Then vomited.

“Isabelle… Isabelle please answer your phone… Come on you’ve been in your house for two straight days now, you have to come out…” My voicemail spoke to me, disguised as Jay’s voice. I sat on my couch, hugging my knees close to my chest as I stared blankly at the TV. My eyes were stinging red from all the crying and my cheeks and face were puffy from it too. Empty cartons of cigarettes and bottles of beer scattered the floors, since I was slowly losing my grasp on what was meaningful in life. The image of Al’s dead body haunted my mind and wouldn’t get out no matter how hard I tried. I hugged my knees tighter and cried a little.
“Damnit… God fucking damnit…”
Damn them all, their war and their cause.

[Rodrenon]

A Teacher to History
Saul, Rodrenon

Tis' a soldier played with guns
He had no love for bullets

She shocked him when she runs
And she led them to the sunset.

Sometimes I'll walk with spears and hate
Tis' a soldier's gun to brandish fate
At odds and ends with fed up states

Her mother died in August
She made a grave of paper smiles
She made her sunset cry the miles
That took her in her walk.

And she Susan B. Anthony, and he was Lord Nelson
And he Lord Bryon and kept his heroes
Swept in discontent
The dust and ash, no love, no rent
And God! I've lost a mother hen
And god the golden feathers bent
Good god the parts I've lost in tense

In countenance and paper smiles
She'd walk a grave
She'd walk the miles
She'd teach the Anthony from Nelson's seize
And soldiers play the gun
And bullets, make old Nelson one.

I've groveled in the dirt and toiled in the musk
But War is built by bullet stains, and fogging up some mother's babe
The dust that makes a good man cry
A good man's father, look and lie
She walked her grave
She walked her miles
I knew august paper smiles, and bowed
To books, she taught of soldiers

And History Class and History all-
I- I- miss the teacher whose misses fall.

[Amerika I]

The poem the 14 Days of Glory was a poem that was written and published in 1806. The poem was allegedly written on the walls of the Wessenholm, a fortress outside the city of Oranjeburg during the Siege of Oranjeburg in the Six Month's War. Formally a Christian mission built by Scotatrovian settlers during the 1500s, the fort was converted by the Maranhok Freikorps when the Adruvish Navy landed 25,000 soldiers to take the city. Supposedly written by Colonel Johannes Westcherbach only moments before Adruvish soldiers shot and killed him in the siege, the poem truly reflects the bravery of the Freikorps in the siege.


"As we take a noble stand to keep our land,
We know that our fight shall be considered a holy stand,
As We fight the enemies that we call Adruvish zärtars,
Their coats shall be stained red by the blood of Amerikaish martyrs."

"We stand before the enemy, prepared and willing to die,
In once a holy building that is now a sacred shrine,
We stand before the enemy, ready to die for our home,
In the fourteen days of glory at the Siege of the Wessenholm"

[Bazio]

Attack at Hotel Paladino leaves 56 dead until now


From: Baziopress

Attack at Hotel Paladino leaves 56 dead until now

More information

According to information from police a gunman with an AK-47 raided this morning (around 8 am, Stonsa time) and started taking haphazardly, so far 58 people died and 120 were injured.

So far:

* According to the newspaper "Australia" man has not identified broke into the hotel dressed all in black.

* According to local witnesses the man screamed in Arabic, the words "Ismael is ruled by God, that is the past" (واستبعد إسماعيل من الله, وهذا هو آخر) (transliterated as' 'w aistabead' iismaeil mmin alllah, wahadhana hu Akhar ')

* The Bazian president, said "This is a clear terrorist act," said Phillip, and declared state of emergency in Bazio.

¹translated news of Bazian

[Stadenwick]

The old man looked pensively to the sky, blue and cold as its showing indifferent to his condition. His feet that carried him here to the side of the lake stopped and gently let his whole body fall to the earth. He took some of his sweet time to make himself comfortable in the ground before enjoying the scenery around him. It's a good morning, cloudy yet still clear enough to let few sun rays hit here and there. The lake shining clear in front of him, with few doves flying from one side to another. The whole lake and its surrounding is the very definition of a serenity.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" said a voice suddenly from behind of him.

The old men jumped in surprise before looked to where the voice come from. A small girl with a cute cowgirl hair appeared from his back and smiled. She lets out a hearty giggle and hugged the old man. Pleasantly surprised by the whole fiasco, the old man gave the girl an honest smile and hugged her back before she started letting him go, jumping to sit on the old man feet instead.

"You know I am my daughter, it's been sometime since I have taken a break," replied the old men as he patted and kissed his daughter cheek. "And its been a very long time since I shared some time with you too."

The girl happily received his father kisses, giggling about how old he is and leaned herself to the body of the old men. She stay still for a little while, enjoying the whole lake scenery along with her father, who keep patting her head and occasionally hugging her. It's been some time indeed, since they both met last time at the hospital, crying goodbyes and promising that they will met again one day.

"You know, daddy...maybe it's not yet the time we have to be together. I'm sure you still have a thing or two to do!"

"Ah, but my child...it is my time," replied the old men as he pointed to the doves, now turned to a murder of crow gliding above the lake that is illuminated by now a twilight sky. The girl gasped in surprise, and the old men smiled a little sad smile. She turned around to hug him tightly and cried. They finally meet again, and this time they will never be separated.

[Amerika I]

The National Anthem of the Großreich, "Das lände der bergkoffen, das lände der stromen."

Oh beautiful for spacious skies,
For waves of Amber grain,
For mountainous majesties,
Above the fruited plains!

Amerika! Amerika!
May God shine his grace on thee,
And crown your sons and daughters the kings of western lands, from sea to shining sea!

Of the beauty great migrants,
Who's stern impassioned stress
A thoroughfare beat of freedom
Across the wilderness!

Amerika! Amerika!
May God mend your every flaw!
Confirm your soul in self control,
Your liberty in law!

Oh beautiful for for glorious tale,
Of liberating strife,
When valiantly for man's avail,
More lavish then precious life!

Amerika! Amerika!
May God refine your soul!
From the overthrow of the Parzalian tyrants to the siege of the Wessenholm!

Oh beautiful for patriotic dream,
That sees beyond your immortal years,
Your glorious cities gleam,
Undimmed by bloody tears!

Amerika! Amerika!
May God shed his grace on thee,
And crown your peoples the kings of the western lands,
From sea to shining sea!

[Osphen]

-removed-

[Tarazed]

Rains of Confugeer

And who are you, the proud lord said,
that I must bow so low?
Only a fowl of a different cloak,
that's all the truth I know.

And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that Lord of Confugeer,
But now the rains weep o'er his keep,

And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that Lord of Confugeer,
But now the rains weep o'er his keep,
with no one there to hear.

In a cloak of red or a cloak of blue,
an eagle still has claws,
And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
as long and sharp as yours.

And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that Lord of Confugeer,
Yes now the rains weep o'er his keep,
and not a soul to hear,
not a soul to hear.

Origins

The Rains of Confugeer immortalized the destruction of the rebellious Tarazdeian colony of Confugeer by Tiberius Gaius Silanus, otherwise known as Tiberius the Great, in 1712. The colony and its inhabitants were obliterated after they rebelled against the current Tarazedian emperor, Decius Virius Silanus, who was perceived as weak by many Tarazedian vassal states and colonies. To restore Tarazedian dominance, Decius's son, Tiberius, marched against the upstart and self-proclaimed Lord Titus Reynes, who had governed Confugeer since its establishment a decade earlier. By the end of the rebellion, the colony of Confugeer had been put to the torch and all members of Titus' family executed. The title is thus a play on words, as the "rains" fall over the empty keep of the "Reynes" who have been killed to the last man.

The lyrics heavily reference the fact that the sigil of "House" Reyne - and by extension the sigil of Confugeer - was also an eagle, but a blue one instead of the red eagle used as the coat of arms of the Tarazedian military. The rebellion of Confugeer against Tarazed was thus seen as a clash of eagles.

In the decades which followed young Tiberius' reminder of Tarazed's dominance by obliterating Confugeer, The Rains of Confugeer went on to become very popular with soldiers of the Tarazedian army, and later became the national anthem - remaining so to the present day.

[ThePeacekeepers]

CRAZED

Insane I may be, when deep in thought I can't see. Cant plea.
Only take the deal, dark ambition with a plot to steal. Needle's drip, you forget to feel.
Losing grip, you begin to reel.
Falling down. spinning out of control,
Drugs gentle calling, has taken its toll.
Over time you have sought your end
tried hard, but could not be pinned.
Overtaken as you look inside, open doorway,
where your thoughts reside.


No Control
Living in my mind, old world left behind.
Twisted thoughts and empty words, swimming in a sea of woe, I lose myself will she ever know?
Gone is the hatred and pain, main vein shootings driven insane,
masterpiece of ill intent will is bent,
jagged jaded broken and bruised. My emotions abused, torn asunder in a thunderous rage,
Intent is caged. In Aged wine
Revenge is mine it cant be taken away, don't take it likely I might come out to play.
Not today but tomorrow there's no other way.
See I love you and it makes me cry, wretched sorrow you do amplify,
For I know I'll never be the guy, I know I'll never be the one
standing there right with you as you raise your son. All these feelings I have, and I wish I had none.
Need a Gun, for a shot in the dark.
Need a spark, gotta hit it outta the park, this is my moment this is my last remark.
I'll never take no shit, your either with me or your not,
That's it.
Please know I'm sorry for all the turbulence caused, when I awaken,
shake up the world can't be paused.

[Ismeil]

Sine

For the Man that Loves gold,
He's Molten love should be rushed down his throat.
For the Man Lusts,
He's tools removed from him.
For the Man who Spouts about himself,
He's belongings taken from his grasp.
For the Man who desires Eating,
He's starvation is he's punishment.
For the Man who does not work,
He's gains shall be misery.
For the Man who shows Aggravation,
He's Love and Desires removed from him.
For the Man that wishes from others',
He's own given to others

Equites

War is Done, Pestilence spread, Famine ridden, Death at every doorstep
For the First appears "Morbus", upon a Sickened Horse, knights bringing pestilence from afar
For the Second appears "Bellum", upon a Blood Ridden Horse, Warriors slaughtering all
For the Third appears "Fames", upon a Black Gaunt Horse, Starvation through all cities
For the Last appears "Mors", upon a Ghostly Horse, Ending the suffering with their lives

Morbus appears as he spreads he's diseases and pests, killing plantations, people and animals alike.
He's Sickened Horse galloping through the lush outreaches of Major cities as it spreads from port to port
annihilating communes, leveling crops, killing animals; He is Pestilence and he has brouten so.

Bellum begins he's conquests, murdering innocents with bloodthirty warriors that follow he's steps.
Cities burned down, houses pillaged, people murdered, lustful rage spreading from commune to commune;
the farmlands are filled with fire and the cities burnt down, nobles decrowned and peasants suffering.

Fames follows Bellum and Morbus closely, bringing starvation from their destruction, crop failures begin,
famine spreads, servants dethroning nobles, food rotting; Grass of the very animals corroded from his
galloping horse's feet, the weak weaker, the cities filled with gaunt faces and bone thin hands.

Mors finally arrives, reaping the souls of the dead, he's scythe collecting the dead, the rattling bones
of his hand bringing forth the ghosts and skeletons beneath, he's cold steel blade cutting through bodies
like a farmer's tool, the harvest of the dead has begun and he is yet to finish for he's brothers have not...

[Ulg]

Hi everyone! I just started a blog to post some of my poetry, which can be found here! Here's the first stanza of my ballad "Song of the Conquest"

Invaders came, Icelanders, Danes

To slay with axe and lance

The peasant folk across the sea

In England and in France.

[Thervingia]

Hi everyone! I just started a blog to post some of my poetry, which can be found here! Here's the first stanza of my ballad "Song of the Conquest"

Invaders came, Icelanders, Danes

To slay with axe and lance

The peasant folk across the sea

In England and in France.

Not to be nitpicky, but Icelanders hardly had anything to do with raids on England. They were all Norwegians and Danes back then anyway.

[Aelvenia]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pT7pVK5 ... e=youtu.be

As I stand upon this broken cliff, I see

A flag to rule the waves

A flag to create, and inspire

A flag to lead, and liberate

But alas, nevermore, shall these flags soar

For their chapter is done.

As the dust settles upon broken land

The last breaths of a dying soul, a dying race, can be heard

Then, there is nothing, but the echos of lost souls.


http://soma.wikia.com/wiki/File:Disaster6.jpg
https://crowncapitalecomgt.files.wordpr ... -earth.jpg

[Osphen]

-deleted-

[The Norgan Alliance]

F*ck the Gypsies, pack up your campground.
A young Roma has it bad 'cause he's brown.

[Sobeiska]

A field of fire where hails of holy lightning streak,
Across the holy lands of God and men.
Hallowed warriors with weapons seething pride,
The hearts and hopes of every heathen rend.

When the smut of the ruins and clouds of dust give way,
Such glorious scenes of blessed pain remained.
I gaze upon the blasted ruin of the Lord,
St. Peter's pearly gates; by holy blood be stained!

I sing the praises in an empty hall;
Sepulchral shadows flit in paradise.
I find myself alone in gilded pall,
Surrounded by the specters of the dead.

[Osphen]

Selam.

My name is Jafar
I come from afar
There is a bomb in my car.

ALLAHU AKBAR

[Neo Rome Republic]

Listened To My Plight

I come to you with problems, problems of all sort.
They're all the worst to listen to. It truly is so I purport.
Yet you listened. Listened to my plight.
Despite me telling tales of terror. Tales of fright.
Tales of my time lost beyond the pale in the night.
Yet you listened. Listened to my plight.
I told you tales of anger. Tales of regret.
Tales so boring I thought you would fret.
Yet you listened. Listened to my plight.
I told tales of confusion. Tales of my boring life.
Tales of my time spent feeling downright.
Yet you listened. Listened to my plight.
I said tales of sorrow. Tales of a past I’m coming to terms with at last.
Yet you listened. Listened to my plight.
You listened to me as if my tales were overall just right.
I couldn’t believe it. Believed this to be far too upright, simply because I felt so contrite.
Yet you listened. Listened to my plight.
And for that. For that you are my light.

[Sobeiska]

Unheard

Sing your praises on high
to long since deafened ears.

Build monuments to your sins
of all the bloodshed and tears.

From cultures wiped out
on your righteous crusades.

Just like the Druids
your religions will fade.

There are no gods to save you,
no one to hear your pleas.

So unclasp your hands,
get off your knees.

People need saving
yet we sit idly by.

Whispering to the clouds,
waiting to die.

[Valvendia]

The whispering wind calms the storm raging in my head
Heavy is my mind filled with mistakes and memories of better and worse
What use is a brain overwhelmed with regret?
Filling my blood with the gifts of God to no avail
I often dream of a different world and ponder the secret of the dead
Everyday I await the coming of my eternal sunshine that is endlessly clouded
Cloudy skies I don't mind
It's the rain that tears me in two ~

[Ismeil]

The City's Burdens

On the Walls of the Great City of Constantinople...
...The Emperor looked out... ...An army that spanned from coast to coast, from the Dardanelles to the Black Sea. Iron and copper cannons lined near the walls... and on them.... ...A calm wind swirled through the air of men, a message, a warning. From atop the walls of Great Theodosian himself... The same walls that held against the huns, the goths, the turks, the persians.... A tremendous battle was to lay upon the city of world's desire... Conflict so terrible it'd be considered a massacre...
From the North and West great armies prepared for a final showdown.... From the East and South Ships of wood and cloth disembarked thousands of men per day.... ...The witnessing Sky stared down with a gloomy and egregious sight... ...The passing Dawn and Dusk were left to oblivion... the Green and lush ground, an obscure memory.... 300 Nights and 300 Days... relentless, ceaseless, cruel, merciless, forlorn, disheartening, deranged slaughter...
...
At the end of the cycle... Befouled and Ghastly grounds laid before a marble city... the once blue sky left a grim impression...
...the earth now a scarlet hue... Guns and Blades.... Stakes and Rocks..... Crucifixes and Crescents. None could ever overlook. ...men no longer walked on firm grass.... a reckoning. the mortal remains of men, horses and cattle... Profoundly pinned to soil. No grieving was given to the deceased on that momentous day. Unidentifiable and young, a sacrifice with no equivalent on this world or the next. Sorrow and Melancholy was the only alm left for the living...

[Skylus]

The blade that slumbers
within the glade
has made many tyrants
very afraid

It was forged in fire
amidst a brewing war
It was forged in fire
to slay the evil boar

The Kingdom was under storm
there seemed to be no end
to the events that were bizarre
Then along came a swarm
of beasts from afar
hoping to seek amends

They were led by
a man that was most fair
He held the blade to the sky
then he did declare

"Fear not, for I have returned
with this blade at my side,
Much I have learned,
and I am certain that I shall not die."

And with this, did the man ride off
towards the castle of yore
When the boar saw the man, oh, how did he scoff
but his mood soon change when he was covered in gore

Battled long, did the man and boar
The blade eventually pierced the head of the beast
when it did so, those that were witness swore
that a golden light shone from the East

Long has it been since that battle took hold
The blade itself slumbers in peace
No one knows when it will need to be bold,
for the sounds of battle long have ceased