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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted (edited)

I once used to know a girl,

Shalmistra was her name,

Her hair would blossom twany gold,

On a balmy autumn day.

 

In the twilight of mountain's mist,

And under tower grey,

Our stories mingle, dance and twist,

To wield our powers fey.

 

Our tale, a simple sad one,

Of happiness and pain,

Of power and forbidden love,

And old shadows come again.

 

One day I turned my back,

And on looking, she was gone,

Long and hard I cried her name,

But her spirit, gone astray.

 

I see her ghost from time to time,

Flitting in the dark,

And I'd see her smile at me,

For our spirits, never part.

 

 

 

:flower:

Edited by Valdar and Astralis
Posted

I liked the visual image of hair that would "blossom tawny(?) gold on a balmy autumn day". The whole story was told well and I enjoyed the way it ended on a happier note, though the story itself suggests that much pain took place.

 

On a side note, if you do edit it you might want to look at the third stanza. It was hard to fit those first 2 lines especially into the rhythm that is so strong in the rest of the piece.

Posted

All done, thanks for the feedback.

 

The story behind this was; a few years back I used to do a bit of RPing in the grey tower. After a while, I sort of dropped out (this was sort of during my writing slump in 2001). When I came back, we tried to carry on a while, but RL came in the way. The next time I dropped by, she was gone, and AIM held no trace of her old SN's. Both of us were marked as 'gone', and I wasn't really inclined to correct that, since the last WOT book pretty much dropped my interest in that world to zero.

 

*Shrugs* didn't make too many friends there, aside from her. Maybe a couple random RP's, but Cathal's largeley forgotten. Then the poem popped into my head during an idle train of thought, and I decided to share.

Posted

I think we have all been there when we know some one but go our seperate ways. Some times we go back to the same grounds which we shared with that some one n hopes of finding some trace of that person.

Buteven if we find that person it is very hard to rekindel what wonce was.

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