Wyvern

Sorry to hear that you won't be able to come on as often as before, Stick... I recommend keeping up your creative writing even if you can't always post, as what I read of your stuff was excellent and you have a knack for making great creative characters. Don't think of the path as getting narrower, but rather as ceasing to expand at times... Having said this, Wyvern bows, hands Stick a large pitcher of booze for the road, and departs from the Cabaret Room.

WARNING to those who haven't read the story: this commentary contains spoilers. As promised, I began from the beginning of "Final Death" again and read through the whole thing yesterday evening and today. Overall, it's definitely an excellent story and I highly recommend it to all of those who haven't checked it out yet. It may appear long at a glance, but the storyline is so captivating and exciting that it shouldn't take you more than one or two days to finish it. Having said this, here are some of my thoughts on the piece: To me, "Final Death" is almost divided into two seperate stories: that of the resistance's battle against Vestat, and that of the journey into Taleth's memories in search of the Mind Wyrm. While the convention of traveling into someone's mind through sorcery has been used previously in countless stories and adventures, I think it was incorporated very well here. It helped the reader sympathize with Taleth and expanded the assassin's character, which is always something difficult to do with loner/anti-hero types. Interestingly enough, I guessed the identity of Taleth's "mystery tactician" from the moment the unknown "she" character was first introduced, largely because of Usuiai's tale of the supernatural murder at the very beginning. After the story ended, I was at first a bit disappointed that it was never revealed whether or not Taleth was the actual murderer of Rysabella, and if so who had hired him... Having thought about it further, however, perhaps it's best left to the readers imagination. If it interests you, my hypothesis was actually that the Sorcereror Kor, responsible for uniting the four kingdoms, had decided to murder Rysabella through Taleth for some political reason... In terms of style, "Final Death" reads almost like a polar opposite of "Gaze of Eternity" to me in a very good way. While "Gaze" has lots of discussion and introspection speckled with moments of action, "Final Death" keeps the reader hooked with it's fastpaced storyline and constant excitement. The drama of the story is largely displayed through the actions of the characters, making the moments where it's displayed through dialogue all the more powerfull. As in any excellent story, the reader grows more and more attached to the characters as he reads through it, and finds himself frequently sympathizing with them. Lots of awesome, memorable moments in this piece, too many to list here... A few of my favorites were: when it's revealed that the Mind Wyrm slightly alters one's memory and we suddenly realize what the whole thing with Rachel looking straight at Dayane was about (I was wondering why that was put in there, and it dawned on me immediatly!), the scene where Taleth finally realizes he must be sane since somebody else see's Rysabella and lets out an honest laugh, the part at the very beginning when Taleth corrects Usuiai about his age, the scene near the end when Dayane realizes Taleth is alive due to 250 gold being stolen from the treasury, the abrupt moments of comedy (such as Rysabella and Dayane becoming entranced by Taleth's good looks and Ganness' ode to Silest's chest), the final dialogue exchange we hear between Taleth and Rysabella as they walk off (they each say what the other normally would have said... brilliant!), etc., etc. I'm interested... what's your favorite moment of the piece as it's author, Orlan? In terms of things to improve... There's one grammatical problem which continously reoccurs and definitely needs editting: the distinction between 'were' and 'where'. This is probably just the honest fault of quick typing, but in case it isn't, 'where' always referrs to a place while 'were' referrs to an action. I noticed a few other sloppy grammatical errors, but this one stood out the most since the two words are pronounced differently. There was also a part of the story that I didn't feel was connected to well, which is in the fourth post down when a segment ends and it cuts to "Dayane swore to herself as she nearly slipped on the cobblestone." Perhaps it would be better to start it with "The plans had gone flawlessly for the last two weeks..." and then describe Dayane's position. Also, the means by which Vestat kills Taleth is too "Final Fantasy VIII" for my tastes... ;p Aside from this, the last post of the story was accidentaly posted twice in the thread, and thus the first one (which doesn't have the very ending of the story) should be deleted. Some things that I would have liked to have seen that never came up: a battle between Rilav and Ippiden (clash of the lesser sorcerors!), more of a role for Severath, and stronger emotions between Dayane and Taleth (though I guess that'd be kinda weird, with Rysabella living inside him ;p). Excellent and captivating stuff Orlan! The kind of story one always feels a little sad to finish... Can't wait for the next of your works!

Though it's a bit late, I'd also like to add my congratulations for your 19th birthday Justin. I hope you had a great birthday... thank you for all the excellent writing and ideas you've contributed (and continue to contribute!) to the Pen... Having said this, Wyvern points to the door leading to the storage area of the Cabaret Room and whispers to Justin: "Now that you're officially drinking age over there, I stalked up your supply of Bruteweiser ™..." ;-)

OOC: Just experimenting with writing a bit, don't mind me... ;p This is to be written in a few installments, here's the first. A circular object of luminosity hangs majesticaly in the kingdom of stars above, casting it's hollow rays from the cloudless unreachable where it rests. The solitary figure standing in the secluded grove knew not the name of this object, irreproachable and flawless in it's symmetrical glory, yet hated it for it's endless beams of radiance. Those beams illuminated her face... reflected upon her crystal tears. Seating himself upon the nearest rough and solid object, the nameless figure carelessly runs the sharp metal object he holds in one hand across his wrists, numb to the pain it normally produces. In which hand did he hold the metal, and how could he distinguish between the two? Looking towards his hands, the figure notices the one closest to the bark of the tree next to him is covered in more sticky red substance than the other, and thus concludes that this is the hand that holds the metallic object. This hand was not only covered in his substance, but in her's as well... While the vague form didn't mind the stickiness or the presence of her motionless body a few feet away from him, there were a few things that had him feeling uncomfortable. He couldn't stand the red color of the matter covering his hands and cloths, and he hated the way the tears on her cheeks shined so brightly. On the other hand, he liked the way her hair was spread so chaotically across the weeds... It reminded him of freedom. Raising himself from his seat, the figure steps away from the image, passing many large objects and aimlessly wandering towards no place in particular. There were certain spots surrounding the grove where the illumination caused by the presence in the sky was blocked off by various exotic obstructions... He hated the darkness of these places, yet strangely also felt most comfortable when enveloped by them. After pacing in the dark aimlessly for an undetermined amount of time, the man begins experiencing a distinct dizziness, and watchs as the outside world morphs and twists around him. He has no choice but to embrace the visions.

Thanks for deciding to apply to the Pen and posting an application, Solivagus. I very much enjoyed your poem (which I take is "untitled"?), and particularly enjoyed the numerous literary techniques you incorporated, such as the metaphor of "life is a prison" and the the symbol of the "timebomb" for mankind's inevitable self-destruction. In my opinion, the principal themes of the poem are that mankind is forever trapped in the strict guidelines of society, and that these faulty guidelines ultimately lead to their self-destruction. Unfortunatly, as excellent as this poem is, I can't accept it as an application as one's application to the Pen should be an original piece of writing specifically posted with the intention of joining the Pen, as opposed to a previously archived work. More information on how to appropriately apply can be found here. There's one other request I would like to make, if it doesn't bother you... I would like if you either didn't archive your works that have already been posted under different alias' on different boards over here, or if you deleted them from the other sites and moved them over to the Pen. I would also like for you not to post the works you write here on other sites under different alias'. There's certainly nothing wrong with archiving your old poetry here... it's just that the problem arises of people mistaking the difference of alias' on certain works between different sites as plagiarism, which we don't want to happen. Having said this, I hope you consent to these terms and eagerly await a reapplication.

Celiwyn taps her foot patiently while waiting directly outside of Wyvern's office, opting for the inconvenience of standing in the hall rather than facing the awfull stench and unsturdy-looking easychairs present within the office. Gazing restlessly at a large grandfather clock that rests in the corner of the hall, the eager applicant turns to her friend Alaeha with a worried expression on her face, clearly concerned about the amount of time the overgrown lizard was taking in reading her new application. Alaeha is about to assure her friend with words of encouragement when suddenly, Wyvern barges out of the office door with Celiwyn's new application poem in his left hand. Clearing his throat of a few ashes and grinning one of his signature evil grins, the overgrown lizard turns to Celiwyn and hisses: "Another excellent poem, Celiwyn... Certainly worthy of acceptance, though perhaps you could help me with a little something first..." Having said this, Wyvern points to one of the names written on the application sheet and mutters: "I noticed you mentioned Phsyce, the once mortal Goddess who was immortalized by Cupid through his love for her... You also mentioned numerous songs and melodies that aid Phsyce in being elevated from her lonliness to this powerfull state of immortality..." Celiwyn raises a brow curiously at this bizarre interpretation of her poem, and is about to speak up and explain that the once mortal Goddess' name would be spelled "Psyche" when suddenly, the overgrown lizard thrusts what appears to be a large trombone, several flutes, and an enormous upright bass into the applicant's hands. A bewildered Celiwyn looks at these instruments, and is about to speak up when Wyvern suddenly interrupts by exclaiming: "If you can play the melody you speak of in the poem to render me immortal, I'll be quite gratefull and will immediatly accept your application!" Celiwyn starts to speak up once again, both to inform Wyvern that she has no song that bestows immortality and that even if she did, she wouldn't be able to play 5 instruments at once by herself... The applicant has no time to say anything, however, as Wyvern suddenly tosses off his tunic, leaving both Celiwyn and Aleaha in shock as he reveals an ancient Roman toga he had dressed himself in underneath. Flexing and trying to look as fashionable to the Gods as possible in preparation for his immortality, the overgrown lizard tosses on a cheap wreath of laurels, which he quickly finds is infested with millions of tiny green aphids... The overgrown lizard lets out a startled shriek as he notices the bugs, and quickly rushes to the Pen's bathrooms to clean himself off. Celiwyn and Alaeha, who carefully watch the progress of Wyvern's misfortunes, are startled to see that the overgrown lizard returns from the restrooms still covered in aphids, yet even paler than before. The reptilian Elder had forgotten about the enormous gelatonous blob that now infested the restroom area of the Pen... As Wyvern continues to run around screaming and scratching at his scales to get rid of the aphids, Alaeha decides to take necessary action. Quickly grabbing a super soaker that remained from one of Wyv's previous Pen application responses , the brave Pen member soaks Wyvern to the bone with it and rids him of all the foul insects. The overgrown lizard collapses to the ground, stamping Celiwyn's application ACCEPTED and muttering: "ACCEPTED... i hate water..." ;p OOC: On a more serious note... An ACCEPTED application, Celiwyn, welcome to the Mighty Pen! Thank you for reapplying and posting another wonderfull poem. Be sure to either post your e-mail address in this thread or mail me at elitwack90@hotmail.com, so I can send you some additional Pen info. Once again, welcome!

Ambition and faith September, a cloudless sky Permanent ideals

Wyvern races into the Cabaret Room as soon as he hears news of Doctor Evil's arrival, quickly whipping out a number of evil scheme papers from his pockets in the hopes that he might be able to exchange a few of them with the Doctor... The overgrown lizard is about to swiftly greet Doctor Evil when suddenly, out of nowhere, an unmanned car zooms into the room. The car, which is a humming Chevrolet Buggy™ to be exact, barges recklessly through the large halls and runs Wyvern over, finally screeching to a stop in front of Doctor Evil. The high tech sunroof of the seemingly simplistic car opens automatically to reveal several exotic accessories within, including a vending machine, an anti-politeness air freshener, and a super computer. The screen of the huge computer immediatly turns on once the car has reached a complete halt, and a soothing voice is emitted from it towards Doctor Evil: "Humbug #2738, successfully arrived upon your request, Doctor. The time is currently 2:40:08 P.M, the music currently being played is Depeche Mode. I also might add that the Doctor looks particularly evil and sinister this fine day." Doctor Evil blushes briefly at the compliment, having completely forgotten he had one of those nifty high tech spy cars that zooms over as soon as you call it by name. Shrugging to himself and taking out a bottle of fine spirits (*cough*topicoftheweek*cough*) from the dastardly red glove compartment, the Doctor decides to make the best of the situation and has a swig or two... ;-) OOC: Welcome back, Doc Evil! Great to have you with us.

The "Wyvern thanks..." section of the CD: Wyvern thanks... First and foremost, all of the M.Cs and producers/D.Js who appear on this album, and whose talents continue to inspire me and motivate me to put together compilations like this. Thanks also go out to Yui for her artwork, Canid for the "Almost Dragonic" logo, Xradion for his suggestions, and the Dope for his MP3 help. Shout outs to BPO, Canid and Dope for listening and learning to appreciate (or at least accept) my favorite genre of music. Respect to all of the creative people up at the Mighty Pen, WotTS, and AoA. This one's for the poets. That's about it! I'll be searching for some Real Audio/MP3 versions of some of the tracks and posting links to them on the track listing at the top of this thread, so be on the lookout. Also, I may make another little complimentary post or two pointing out some interesting facts about some of the songs, as well as posting lyrics and audio to a brand new (and excellent) Sage Francis anti-war track, "Hey Bobby." Finally, I'm really interested in hearing feedback from you guys, whether it be on the CD itself (whether you actually own a copy or just read the lyrics), the contest, or any questions you might have on any parts of this project... Be sure to post them in this thread! Thank you for reading!

12) "A Friend's Blues" Written and performed by Murs. Produced by Justin Martin. www.llcrew.com - The things we hold dear and the reasons we choose to live, despite all hardships. The friendships that motivate us all. Lyrics: Now when you're young, death can make you aware of your mortality At times we feel invincible, lose sight of reality Until it takes a loved one... residing in our circle And it'll hurt you 'cus you'll miss'em, first your close now your distant And it hurts, just to know that they can go at any instant Gotta love'em by the minute, now you realize this... It's that it takes a loss to appreciate the gift So celebrate the occasion... just breathing is amazing! To see the Sun rise and set at a day's end The chance to fix mistakes that we regret making Find joy in the simple things! No time for complaining The Sun will shine it can't always be raining I know it hurts deep but you must maintain it I've seen it in my homeboys Terry and Tyne... They lost so many yet they keep so strong To lose a parent or a sibling and have a will to keep living Takes so much strength... so I admire y'all And one day hope to find out what inspires y'all 'Cus I'm still mad asking why it happens at all Some say that God takes'em and they lean on mythology But I choose to believe that it's divine lottery I can't believe God's looking down waiting to slaughter me I can't live in fear... and I can't live here forever... So I treasure every moment. [Hook:] And it's friendship... that I value the most That kinship... the ones we hold close And dear, and fear the most of losing but keep true with The memories brewing 'cus life keeps moving on... [/End Hook x2] We came together like family, like it was our first death Unexpected... so quick, so sudden, the worst yet Didn't get to know the girl til kissed after her first breath We loved her like a sister as for there her first steps Got the call out of town, so alone I first wept Deep pain in the same place from where this verse crept Never slept in that bed again... The memory was too tragic, looked up and screamed "goodbye!" You wouldn't be present at the wake, in your casket Now you ask if things changed since you left... not really We're still playing games, B.Sing, acting silly See she don't talk to her and... she don't like me And will we work things out? That's not likely... I mean where will we start? Do we mend friendships or let things fall apart? Will we still be in touch? Honestly, I don't know... but you'll hear my heart forever. [Hook] And it's friendship... that I value the most That kinship... the ones we hold close And dear, and fear the most of losing but keep true with Though not a lotta brewing Blow a blunt while you boozing Love your friends that your using Gotta love'em 'for you lose'em Stand strong when you do it Tough times, live through'em Don't give into'em Stay gold pursuin' and Doin' what you doin' 'Cus life keeps moving on...

Spread your wings my broken dove Of shattered glass composed The fragments sharp, contorted art Entice forgotten woes Raise your beak my little love A twisted metal snare To sing the tune, distorted loon Spite screeches in the air Turn your eyes forsaken one Those melted crimson beads Of plastic worn, embedded scorn And artificial needs Lift a claw you tattered bird Barbed wire's twisted form To cut and scrape, to mutilate To nourish hungry worm Take flight, O wretched winged hope! These hands that bled and built Shall watch your ghastly form soar high While trembling with guilt Yet efforts wrought and endless shame Stop not the scalding sun And faith rebuilt with horrid guilt Becomes Icarus Undone.

11) "Divine Disappointment" Written, performed and produced by Alias. Scratches performed by D.J Mayonnaise. www.anticon.com - A criticism of religion in American society from the persepective of God. Poetic justice. Lyrics: *Paradise of fools!* [x4] My frustration...! Into what I created has me feeling discombobulated I hated the boredom so I reinstated entertainment For my well-being, now it seems I made the wrong decision My project had appeared easy but had no direction or precision Beginner's luck... Only up in recent times do I feel stuck I'm the only one to blame for things that ran amuck, I built up... a universe that is now building me, you see Technological advancement is the Creater now in all things to be Decided. Having not even once touched my hands... My quote-unquote "followers" now constantly fill the stands On the so-called "Sabbath Day" For years it's been this way... But these people can't figure out whether it's the first or last day to pray They seem to think that I'm forgiving them all... Which means they have a scapegoat If they happen to drop the ball I've been coined... various names None of which to me are flattering They look to me for a guidance But to me they do not matter in my eyes! There's nothing I can do to help this situation When they have internal conflicts with their whole congregation They gather every week and speak of me in song... These beings I created in this project gone terribly wrong! [Hook:] You all pray that you know me... But you really don't Ever forgiving you say of me In reality I really won't From the day I gave you life, to your last annointment You have all been nothing but divine dissapointment [/End Hook x2] So I'm now stuck to figure out what I should do at this point in time These creatures seem to think that there's an afterlife So they spend their whole life benign They killed another creature years ago that claimed to be my son So now they mold ideals after him and claim that he's 'the One' The one that will save them, lead them to a new breath I hate to break it to them... ("I have nothing for you after death") So carry on if you wish unknowing, thinking breath is wind blowing Magnifying light bulb is the sun and tears of rivers flowing Think that every bad thing that happens to you is at my will... Like bankruptcy, adultory, and the reason why others kill Go on to be mislead, as you have your entire life Think that I'll somehow reward you for all your pain and strife I can't control destiny... where'd you come up with that notion? There's no cure for AIDS... so don't even bother with that potion I didn't create the disease to punish others, I didn't even make it So if you have that frame of mind you go ahead and break it! I'm sick and tired of feeling responsiblity for all of you ungratefuls Unwilling to share with the starving while you enjoy all of your platefuls Even if I had the power to help you... I wouldn't even bother So stop thinking that I love you and stop calling me your "Father"! I didn't plan on you evolving into this mess with which I deal... Asking for my forgiveness when you (lie, cheat and steal) What the hell do you want me to do?! Try and save yourself! I cant help your marriage, chlldren or status of health My problem's far away from all your so-called devastations Like this oncoming war between the so-called "United Nations" I regret making all of you... you make my blood pressure climb I wish I didn't make you... but even I cant turn back the hands of time! [Hook] *Paradise of fools!*

Celiwyn, I think "Fire" is a beautifull and excellent poem in every sense, and I'll definitely be looking forward to reading more of your poetry. The tone of the poem almost seems to radiate warmth and love, and the entire metaphore of a fireplace for the effort and love of the person the poem is directed to is both intriguing and excellently executed. Having said this, as Peredhil pointed out, the rules are the rules... Despite this being an excellent piece of work, I'd really appreciate it if you could post a new piece written specifically for applying to the Pen. I look forward to reading it, and am certain you'll have no problem getting accepted.

Wyvern grins slyly and desperatly tries to hide his malicious snickering as Silexion puts pen to paper and begins writing a new Pen application... The truth was that Silexion didn't have to write another application, as he had already applied previously and was even still listed in the member lists as an Initiate. Never the less, the reptilian Elder of Initiates was not about to tell him that... after all, he could instead take advantage of this misunderstanding for his own egoistic, greedy needs! Silexion stares blankly at the sheet of paper in front of him for a long moment, before asking: "Hmmm... I forgot... what is a Pen application supposed to have in it again?" Wyvern considers this question carefully for a moment, nonchalantly picking up Silexion's remaining cup of coffee and taking a long sip from it. Finally reaching a sinister conclusion on how he should respond, the overgrown lizard carelessly tosses the coffee cup aside and hisses: "Well... it has to be a summary of 100 different creative positive qualities about the Elder of Initiates. After that, you'll also need to write 100 different creative negative qualities about the Almost-Secretary of Initiates..." Wyvern snickers to himself sinisterly as Silexion cringes at the thought of the impossible task of finding 100 positive qualities for the overgrown lizard... The applicant sighs in relief at the second task, which seemed far more simple due to the Almost-Secretary of Initiates' exceedingly ugly physical traits. Struggling to come up with even one positive quality of the Elder of Initiates, Silexion twirls his pen in his hand nervously as Wyvern suddenly interrupts his train of thought, exclaiming: "Don't forget that after you finish, you also need to pay the Pen geld entry fee!" "Entry fee...?" responds Silexion, raising a confused brow. "I haven't been here for some time now, but I certainly don't remember any fee for entering the guild." Wyvern freezes in place and stutters for a moment, suddenly realizing that perhaps he had dragged his deception a bit too far. About to offer a lame excuse about how the new geld entry fee had come about due to Elder dwarves demanding higher wages and office door replacement fees, Wyvern starts to speak but is interrupted as Melba barges into the room weilding a Jechum-approved "Anti-Wyvern Mallet", rapidly clobbering Wyv over the head with it. Wavering and falling to the office floor, the overgrown lizard mumbles: "ACCEPTED, of course..." OOC: Welcome back to the Mighty Pen, Silexion! Your post certainly qualifies as an ACCEPTED application, though as I stated in the beginning of my response, once you've applied and become a Pen member there's no need to do so again. Once again, welcome back!

Very good poem, Blondemoon... depicts the angst and rage that often evolve from lies and treachery in an abstract manner. Interestingly enough, when I first read this I immediatly associated it with a recent speech by a certain president, mostly because of the date it was posted and the title of the poem... But then, I have this annoying tendency to read things too politically some times. ;p Once again, well done! P.S: As Peredhil said, you may want to check out "It's of my Nature", written by M.C Scarub and archived in the "Poetic Justice Companion" thread located in the library.

A very good poem, Kokuryuu... In my opinion, the principal theme of the piece is to demonstrate the way that inspiration in humans can be drawn from the sublime in nature, as the storm lifts the woman to a state of "ecstasy" and afterwards leaves her somewhat "detached" from the rest of the etherial world. I really liked how you started the poem with a series of short adjectives that built up the presence of the storm, as well as the personification of nature, which was very well done and present throughout the piece. Great work.

Wyvern thanks everyone once again for their good wishes and knocks Brute's large barrel of booze over, afterwards hopping onto it and using it as a method of transport by means of skillfully rolling on it with his feet. Rushing towards the gigantic gold coin on his barrel and rubbing his palms together gleefully at the thought of having enough money to try out his list of "even-more-sure-fire-yet-also-more-expensive" schemes, Wyvern doesn't notice how close he's getting to the gargantuan object... As a result, the overgrown lizard crashes straight into the coin, breaking the barrel of booze and creating an almost-dragonic indent on the coin's surface in the process... Wavering unsteadily as the people that had gathered (including the wiggly cabbages) cringe at this sight, Wyvern topples over right before the gigantic coin procedes to do likewise, and collapses directly on top of the overgrown lizard... After a great deal of effort from several purple fuzzies and Pen members, a battered and bruised Wyvern is dug up from the ground and slowly rejuvinated back to health. Looking around himself cheerfully despite any physical damage that had been done, the overgrown lizard procedes to partake in a Peredhil-like group hug involving Zool's usefull "Extendo-Hug-Arms ™" ;-) OOC: Once again, thanks everyone... your wishes mean a lot to me.

Thanks everyone, for the birthday wishes! Wyvern procedes to scheme ways to recieve the largest portion of cake while playing a game of 'foot tug-of-war' over Stick's bag of geld with Ms. O Harpy... The overgrown lizard carefully places the rapidly disintegrating piece-of-water-I.O.U he had recieved (a rare occurence where the almost-dragon decides to keep something water-related!) into a safe pocket of his tunic, along with the golden camel. Fighting a losing battle in the 'foot tug-of-war', the overgrown lizard finally plants a clawed toe into the fabric of the bag and lets out a triumphant laugh... only to be foiled as several hamsters run by and send him spinning at high speed... ;p

10) "Hate in a Puddle" Written and performed by Illogic. Produced by Blueprint. www.weightless.net - Self acceptance. Coming to terms with the hatred one feels while gazing at their reflection in a puddle of rain, and questioning where that hatred stems from. Lyrics: I hate when it rains... 'cus in puddles I encounter this guy Unable to give a rebuttal, but swift as the pain floods his eyes Wondering why he's a gift with no purpose... A priceless one-of-a-kind piece that's worthless Grounded with no surface And when he shows one... it's a facade 'Cus inside he fights feelings that he was a mistake by God I see his confusion and self-deception... Questions of relevance and intelligence He holds an illusion of self-acceptance that he shows to those outside looking in He's outside looking into his own life; looking for strength To carry on as a pawn in this chess game of existance In his mind he wants to go on to the dawn and leave the stress that came with existance Hoping in death he'll find life... 'Cus as he lives, he roams the dark trying to find light He's made his heart so hard he doesn't even cry anymore 'Cus he's confronted sorrow frequently His heart's been broken frequently It's like he's lost some part of him and just hasn't found it yet So in his search, he's left with nothing but questions and regret All he wants to know is how one day, he's content... And the next day he's crying 'cus his life isn't what he thought 'life' meant He just wants to be happy... with his love and all But too often I get messages through telepathic calls He's asking me through a puddle: what more must he endure to continue? But for some reason he knows he must endure to continue... [Hook:] When I walk past puddles, my reflection calls begging me To answer his questions about life and his perceptions And tell him why I hate him so much And you wonder why I hate him so much? Now when I walk past puddles, my reflection calls begging me To answer his questions about life, and his perceptions And tell him why I hate him so much Damn, I wonder why I hate him so much... [/End Hook] Why did I hate him so much? I wanted to ponder on the question What in my mind caused me to despise my reflection? I didn't know... I just knew when I saw him, how I felt And hated the fact that he had to play with the cards that he was dealt He's come in contact with some ill things that can't be explained Life's extracted his energy to where the pain can't be contained So to me he comes, shedding tears like skin Intimate with some... only the ones he calls friends if they even exist He only exists in pain It's like his life's a myth and he's been blessed with the gift of shame, I mean From birth to love he's been betrayed... He's an unknown in how to cope with that pain and dissapointment He's come to know as his clone He feels he stands alone in this world of puddle images And he awaits the time for when... time finishes He tries to elevate thought... but he's still chilling in the basement Awaiting the rebirth of his soul as it fears it's spiritual placement. [Hook] God I pray you can give me a purpose, or help me find it 'Cus on this narrow path of self-damnation, I can't find it Is there something I need to know? Some way I need to grow? To get out of this rut... God give me some self-trust Love is something I'm looking for... but I found it, or have I? I wanna live, but can I... or do I have to die to? I try to have life, but my life seems kinda worthless... As I'm staring at this puddle... God I pray that you can give me a purpose or help me find it 'Cus on this narrow path of self-damnation, I can't find it Is there something I need to know? Some way I need to grow? To get out of this rut... God please give me some self-trust! Love is something I'm looking for - thought I found it, or have I? I wanna live, but can I... or do I have to die to?! I try to have life, but my life seems kinda worthless... As I'm staring in this puddle... [Hook] [in spoken word:] I sit alone in dismal silence Peering into the eyes of my reflection Wondering if his thoughts are adjacent to my own What visions of eerie savagery and passionate purity lurk in the mind of he who I mirror? Looking at him, I am disgusted... He lacks beauty in all external areas and internally he seems so confused Perplexed with this conundrum of life He proceeds to function or cope, looking at it realistically... Esteem he lacks, in all areas of existance Reason unknown... What is the cause of this lack of self-acceptance? I mean, it seems like he needs constant assurance Some type of ritual proof that he's even worth the oxygen he breathes The... light that shines upon him Is his living in vain? ...Does he have a purpose? Answer... Eternally unknown.

9) "Brick Walls" Written and performed by Qwel. Produced by Meaty Ogre. www.galapagos4.com - A direct argument acted out between a person who supports hip hop culture and another who shuns it. Shows the lack of cultural acceptance in society. Lyrics: Yo, check out this tape "Is it rock?" Nah it isn't... but I really think you'd dig it if you'd give this shit a listen It's my heart and soul! "Do you play your own instruments?" Well... not actually, but we got the sample from... "Yeah well, whatever, it's all crap to me!" I know, but this is different... I'm gifted and it's some phat shit "Rap is ignorant, stop acting like you're black kid" Yo, can I at least pop it in so we can find out...? "I said no! I don't allow that nigger shit in my house, get a job!" O.K, I catch your drift... this shit is just my passion "I don't give a fuck what it is, you put it in, and I'ma smash it I said no, that's why... don't even ask again Keep it up and find yourself fucked up just like your black friends!" Yo, it's doper then most rock shit "Yeah right" At least it's honest... Ya know you're right To like this shit you need some soul, so you ain't on it You ain't heard of Outkast? Then how've you lived a rock riff Cop some Pharoahe Monch tickets and whisper 'mosh pit' "Yo, you're still hear? I thought I said to hit the road?!" Yo, fuck you 'Helen Keler' Do the twist until your hips explode [Hook:] My God speaks to hip hop prophets through rock riffs 'till white boys drop beat boxes in mosh pits... [/End Hook x2] Yo, check out this piece: This shit is clean! "Is that so...? If it's on a building, it ain't art" Well what about the Sisteene Chapel? I bet if you tried to give graff just half the chance you'd dig it "Yo, that shit is ignorant, and all it is is vandalism Go to school and get paid to paint, not playing all night" Oh, so if it don't pay it ain't art, and if it does it's all right? I don't get it... "It's wrong 'cus you can go to jail you dipshit" Oh, like they fed Christians to lions... how is this shit different? "People can't even read it, how's it art, I thought so!" 'Cus art always lives like Basciot, ask Picasso "Tell it to the judge when you get up in jail dummy Don't even bother to call me or your mom for bail money" I ain't asking you for shit, just 10 minutes to peep some flicks If that's too much to ask you ain't got eyes to see this yet If you ain't seen movement you just missed impressionism When Dondi flicks rough as Van Gogh the lessons given "I didn't ask you to express yourself, give up your cans kid" Fuck you 'Helen Keller'... I'll hit the bricks, you hit the canvas [Hook]

"A Place Called This" Written and performed by L'Roneous. Produced by D.J Zeph. Scratches performed by D.J Zeph. www.oceanflr.com - Using a dream of an oppressed authoritarian society ruled by an overlord as a metaphor for the American system of law. Depicting laws established with racist intentions. Lyrics: *The lesson of today!* (Damn... I had this dream... It was... I don't know man, it was out there... ... but it was right here. I don't know how to describe it... Hmm...) Long ago I dreamt of a place called this I thought my mind shift I was blinded by some twisted shit You see there was a wicked overlord That regulated over blackboards No one ever saw him But his henchmen stalked the land and damaged The minds of my own kind, blind to the ways Of the overlord that overforced the acts that passed led By the mentally dead, forcefed this propaganda Demanding stand tall - man do as I say, or crawl This is your reality - echoed through my sleepy dream People scream, silent cries, echoed by - homicide Rates, increasing, no ceasing the silence Violence is a mental thing, the pendulum swings But something wicked this way comes, murmurs through the slums Some claim to be a player, but in this game, we all pawns All spawn, by the overlord We overcame on a petty four-score Of ancient folklore, but the overlord kept plotting Take, and I'll give you all the rotten things I've gotten 'Cus it's hot, in this hell on earth Where you ain't worth a nickel And you can't even see the shit that makes your cells go sickle While fickle fuckers who don't follow strive for dying quick L-imination tactics practiced by those wack ass henchmen Yeah them... you tell them I got plans for when it's finished Cause this ain't just a dream, and a place called this exists This ain't just a dream, and a place called this exists This ain't just a dream, and a place called this exists A placed called this exists, a place called this exists A placed called this exists... not only in the mind... (not only in the mind) But within the definitive lines of our cities... (of our cities) And their guidelines... structured through time.. (structured through time) By the blind, who thought they had been given Divine... rights of passage... (rights of passage) But see the fight continues... And yet it's only getting massive, Now, Probe for a sec while we detect the sites of evil The grass ain't even greener cause the barriers are see-through And we do, those deeds that heed or cause all of our flaws And the overlord ain't fictitious, the overlord's our laws Or their laws, that tear all of us, in this perilous Plot that got some peoples heated but you'll never read it In the paper, the caper's much too deep to leak to y'all man I seen it all, mirrored by the blemished image of 'created equal' Or religion mixed with government A puzzlement, incentives intent to kill minds Build ties through lies and they can't stop, won't stop Look at all those black cops flocked on the block just to mock Those locked, in concrete cages You should've peeped the stages This ain't just a dream, and this shit is quite amazing Now some ain't even fazed by today's mental plague But I guess it ain't contagious... The symptoms of racist behavior, racist behavior These are all symptoms of racist behavior Racist behavior, racist behavior These are all symptoms of racist behavior. (A place called this... exists...)

I echo what others have said in that this is an excellent piece of work, Nyyark. I interpreted the poem as an ode to the five senses, with each haiku stanza representing a different sense. Sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch are all represented through a dragonfly's shimmering wings, the final note of a symphony, the smell of crushed flowers, the taste of chocolate, and the touch of a goodnight kiss respectively. What I also found very interesting is that all of these images of senses are fleeting. The poem encaptures the notion that our senses are momentary as opposed to permanent, and in doing so perhaps suggests that we should take advantage of each of these moments, as any good ode would. On a side note, the fleeting imagery reminded me of a very good poem by John Keats, "Ode on a Grecian Urn", which I recommend if you haven't read it. Keats' poem also deals with the notion that sensory moments and beauty are fleeting, with the exception of those on an urn which are immortalized and remain for eternity. Once again, excellent work Nyyark!

Well done, Canid... this is a powerfull piece of blank verse. I particularly like the oxymoron of being "Openly Closed," and also thought that the way the poem was constructed, with certain lines containing no more than one word or phrase, was very evocative. The poem also echoes my personal sentiments concerning recent events quite accurately. Wyvern recommends that Canid read "Makeshift Patriot" by Sage Francis (posted in the Library), as it also shares some similar themes with this piece.

Right... I'm gonna unsticky this thread soon since work has died down by this point and I shouldn't have any more problems in getting to applications for longer than the week I limit myself to. I just wanted to make this post to inform all applicants from Jamesdevin onward that I've finally gotten around to mailing all of you the additional Pen info, as promised. Apologies once again on the many delays that cropped up in acceptances, and thank you all very much for your patience. Welcome once again, one and all, to the Mighty Pen! P.S: Jareena, I still need your e-mail addy or need you to send me a mail at elitwack90@hotmail.com so I can get you the additional Pen info. Thanks!

As Ethics Gradient had been calculating the perfect angle to fire his golden box of applications from his catapult, Wyvern had exhaustedly entered into the Recruiter's office... The greedy Elder had been gambling with the 7 Elder dwarves during his absence, and as usual had ended up rather broke as a result. Looking towards the sunny sky outside his office window and contemplating the size of his debt, the overgrown lizard exclaims to noone in particular: "If there is a celestial deity of greed, let him cause it to rain gold from the skies!" After waiting for a few minutes and seeing no gold rain, Wyvern shrugs and turns his back to the window, satisfied with his original assumption that there was no deity looking after those who were greedy at heart. No sooner has the overgrown lizard turned his back to the window, however, than Ethics Gradient's gold box comes soaring through it, hitting Wyvern directly on the back of his head and knocking him down... The almost-dragon topples over as the three thousand pages of application contained within the box are scattered across the office floor... Rubbing his aching head while gradually regaining his composure, Wyvern lifts himself to his feet only to notice that the blunt object that had come flying through the window was a gold box... The overgrown lizard's jaw drops open as he examines the box with a magnifying spectacle (which he always keeps in handy for situations like these) and notes that the box is made of very precious material indeed. The almost-dragon's eyes practically bulge out of their sockets when he notices all of the sheets of paper scattered about the floor, each of which reads "Please accept my application." Stuttering to himself and running around in nervous circles, the overgrown lizard is about to let out a terrified scream when Melba suddenly enters into the office. The almost-secretary is immediatly struck by a not-so-almost-headache as she notices the mess that has once again become of the office, with papers strewn across the floor and yet another broken window... As she rubs her temple with her left hand, Wyvern points to the mess and exclaims: "Melba... we have to clean this stuff up as soon as possible!" Melba raises a brow gloomily, not used to hearing Wyvern speak of cleaning things himself, even partially... Wyvern frantically points to mess again and cries: "I asked the celestial deity of greed to rain gold from the skies, and it seems he did... b-b-b-but along with the gold he sent an enormous application to the Mighty Pen. We can't have a deity of greed join the Mighty Pen! I'll be ruined!!!" Melba sighs and begins sweeping up the glass from the broken window, not believing a word of the insanity the Elder exclaims... "I have to quickly gather these papers from the floor!" exclaims Wyvern frantically. "Come to think of it, I don't know which order they're supposed to go in! What if the deity arranged them in a specific sort of order and I accidentaly rearrange them?! He'll punish me by stealing geld!! Arrrgh!!!" The overgrown lizard's nervous breakdown is swiftly interrupted as Ethics Gradient enters into the office, asking Wyvern if he recieved his gold box and three thousand page application. The almost-dragonic Elder stands in shock for a moment, and then is immediatly overcome by relief... Calmly gesturing to Ethics Gradient, Wyvern nods and asks if he could help in stamping all of the pages ACCEPTED... There were quite a few pages to stamp, after all... OOC: An ACCEPTED application Ethics, welcome to the mighty Pen! I'll send you some additional Pen info ASAP.