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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Sir William stood upon a cliff

And look'd at the rocks below

"I'm rather sure I'm better off dead.

And so I might as well throw

My body to the rocks below

To join with the earth again

To all my friends I'm nothing more

Than an annoying little pain."

 

As he stood upon the edge

Fate laughed at his plight

"You're not finished, little one,

you foolish little knight.

You'll break your vows to all the ones

That helped to bolster you.

Betrayer they shall call you, knight,

Your presence they will rue."

 

Sir William flung himself aloft

But not towards the shore

Instead he fell right backwards

Towards his house's door.

He went home and he thought and thought

Of how to break his curse

He was a burden to his friends

It could not get any worse.

 

He took his shining sword of truth

And wielded it up high

"Watch out," he cried to all the world,

"Sir William's not going to die!

I'll right the wrongs and I'll feed the poor

Until my curse is through."

Little did he know he was

Quite worthless through and through.

 

He came upon a village soon

Beset by a horrible foe.

"Help, help!" cried the townsfolk

And to William they cried their woes.

A dragon, huge and breathing flames

Was eating all the girls

William's anger sparked and his sword shone

His banner then unfurled

 

Racing on his charger

straight at the dragon's nest

He gave no thought to life or limb

Or any of the rest.

He drew his sword and swung it thrice

And called so it could hear.

"Oh cowardly dragon, hear me now,

Sir William is here!"

 

The ground shook like an earthquake

And the cavern spouted flames

From within the darken depths

The dragon slowly came.

It was enormous, right and true

It's wings could touch the skies

The teeth were like the swords of old

And the scales as big as pies.

 

"Who are thee to disturb me,

The dragon of despair?"

"You hunt the weak," Sir William yelled

"Without even a care!"

The dragon chuckled, "Foolish boy,

that's the way of life."

His chuckle shook the heavens

and his eye was like a knife.

 

"Turn 'round right now and maybe thou

shalt live to see the 'morrow.

But if you wish to meet your doom,

I'll bear thee no large sorrow."

Sir William clanked his visor down

and readied his great lance.

"I may die, but at least I'll

have given it a chance."

 

The knight rode fast and thrust his lance

Straight to the dragon's heart.

But the beast knocked it aside

And splintered it apart.

"This is the last warning I'll give

Before I kill you, knight.

Save yourself a gruesome death

and give up this vain fight."

 

Sir William drew his shining sword

And whispered to the steel,

"You've never failed me all my life,

Truth, don't fail me now."

He cried his battlecry

And hurtled at his foe.

Truth he held in his mailed fist

To his death he did go.

 

Despair hissed at the hated Truth

And tried to dodge it's bite

But Truth was swung with deadly speed

And quickly turned the fight.

The shining sword went snicker-snack

And the dragon's head detached.

But much to his dismay,

It quickly re-attached.

 

The dragon laughed quite evilly

And grinned an evil grin.

"You're a weakling, Sir William,

And my dinner will begin."

The dragon ate the cursed knight,

And crunched him right in two,

And all the world breathed a sigh of relief

Both the many and the few.

 

Despair defeated Truth that day

Sir William's final shield

And now the knight resides upon

Hell's flaming little fields

His friends are all much happier

Without his curse to hurt

And now they all laugh easier

Now that's he's under dirt.

 

The moral of this story friends

Is that a life can be worthless

And that death may be the answer

Within a life that's mirthless

You know Sir William by the name of Falcon

And this is his great song

So why don't you all cheer his death

And come and sing along?

Cioden Darkeye

 

Quill-Bearer - The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

President of the Peredhil Fan Club

Owner of the Reply Raven - Enemy to all those who never post responses

Ashaman - WoT - Blitz II

Council - The Hunters - Blitz II

Leisure Officer - SFV Ultima - Beta

Guest Zephryin
Posted

How cheery... I, for one, am making sure you never answer the phones at those suicide hot-line things!

-=================-

ZephryinKnight of The Constellation

Initiate of the Pen

 

-=================-

"Draw thy sword, that, if my speech offend a noble heart, thy arm may do thee justice: here is mine."

Guest Xradion
Posted

        Hmm...I don't quite know what to say. I like the rhythm and rhyme scheme of the poem...a little touch of Lewis Carroll turned suicidal there (and the vorpal blade went snicker-snack). You know, I have been thinking of a poem along similar lines (entitled Temptation). In the end, however, I chose life. In the words of rapper Aesop Rock (who almost committed suicide himself), "It's guess it is kind of funny when you look at it from a step back. How one man can literally buckle under the pressures that other men operate normally under."

 

        I personally believe that everyone contemplates suicide at some point or another in their lives. It sometimes becomes easier to think about death than to just press on with life. However, life my seem impossible at times, but ultimately, all we know for sure as that we have this existence, so we may as well make the best of it. I actually know several people who have tried to commit suicide at one point or another, and ALL of them are later glad that they were unsuccessful.

 

At one time (in middle school), I actually worshipped the Lady Death (Wyvern could tell you about this, it’s not quite as weird as it sounds). I ended up discovering that nothing is truly worth worshipping (especially not death). I worshipped death because I have known several people who have toiled and fought all their lives and never reaped the rewards of their struggles. I began to believe that death was the ultimate equalizer, that men rich and poor were truly equal in death, but even this is not true. Rich men have better burials. Better memorials. They are remembered, whereas working-class laborers are quickly forgotten unless they happen to make some "amazing contributions" in their lifetime. I ultimately came to the realization that sometimes, the struggle itself is it’s own reward. That sometimes, it’s worth living just to carry on the life cycle. And if that isn’t enough, then consider the following.

 

        Nietzsche (whom I REALLY dislike) said something to the affect that "when I think of 19th century Germany, who interests me? Goethe? Or the German people? Why, Goethe, of course. " He used this b.s. argument (along with several others) to justify his "superman" theory. However, what Nietzche fails to realize is that Goethe COULD NOT HAVE EXISTED were it not for the sociopolitical conditions of his time period. That all artists are conditioned in large part by the time period in which they live, and not the other way around. Without the German working class to raise the crops and the cattle, make the clothes, etc, Goethe would have been too occupied with that sort of manual labor to be able to pursue his artistic talent. What I’m trying to say with all of this is that every single human life is extremely precious. It may not be immediately obvious, but we all have a role to play. In my own spiritual journey, I have come to the conclusion that worshipping or believing in anything too much is a mistake. That instead we should learn to love. To love one another for who we are, and to love the creator (what ever being or even force it may be) for giving us this chance to experience something so beautiful, even if it is arduous so much of the time. I guess that each person has to come to their own spiritual (not necessarily religious) understanding. This has been my experience.

 

        I know that I ramble a lot, but I hope that this has been helpful to you (or anyone else getting depressed out there) in some way. Until next time…

 

 

 

 

Xradion,

The Horny Druid,

Scholar of the Ancient Arts,

Holder of the Eye of Odin.

 

"The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream."

-Wallace Stevens

 

"When at home, do as the Homans do." –Xradion

 

Edited by: Xradion at: 5/2/02 8:55:32 pm

Posted

Wow, that's the flashiest sig I've seen in YEARS!

 

But anyway, I've come to grips with the fact that either I'm happy or They're happy, and there's a lot more of Them, so I'm bound to be unhappy. I'm not dying until I can fulfill the statement "I'd rather have people ask why I didn't have a statue as opposed to them asking why I DID." I'm not up to people wondering why there's no statues around, so I'm not dying just yet.

Cioden Darkeye

 

Quill-Bearer - The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

President of the Peredhil Fan Club

Owner of the Reply Raven - Enemy to all those who never post responses

Ashaman - WoT - Blitz II

Council - The Hunters - Blitz II

Leisure Officer - SFV Ultima - Beta

Posted

Hm.

 

A very good poem, Will. It's sad in a way I can't really place right now, but does have a very dismal fairy tale feel to it. I'm thinking rob the brothers Grimm's tales of justice, and you'd have a comparable flavor. If it was

 

an exercise in demon exorcising, good show. If not, I'm no fan of the theme either. Self-destruction is the worst kind.

 

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

 

Poppycock. Utter untruth. Others may give theier lives to a cause (and yes, your motivation can be said to be a cause), we may give ourselves to a cause, but that doesn't make it right. Killing is wrong, be it yourself or others. No one should have to die without their lives being fought for, physically, mentally, spiritually (emotions are too volatile to trust entirely, so I excude them from the list). Every human life is precious, even sacred. We are truly unique, all of us, because down to the very last detail, there is on-one exactly like ourselves. We are important because we make a difference each and every day in the world. Whether it is for good or ill is entirely up to us. Even if your intentions are misread in something you do, it's still entirely likely something noble gone awry will impress an outside observer, to make a very simplified example. I'd go into a full chain reaction example, but that would take too long and be too... inappropriate, I think.

 

Point being, we change things every day. We just don't always get a chance to or let ourselves see it.

 

We are important because anything positive we do contributes in some (at least) small way to mankind treating each other all like the neighbors we are. That makes us a part of the "force of good", if you will. We *are* part of all that's right with the world, but only when we choose to be. It's up to us, and there's nothing on Earth that can stop any of us from doing some good in someone's life each and every day.

 

That is your point.

Guest Minta Rose
Posted

I still read it as morbid humor, as a speech that somehow became conscious of the floor creaking from its weight. Maybe the meter and casual use of epic references and forms gave that impression. I see a layer forming behind the outward play, and that's where the humor forms. The outward play exaggerated by the inward disbelief in it.

 

It would be recited from an impromptu stage, with a hasty sheet draped for the hero's cape and big gestures and a two-person chorus to shout "Oh, woe!" and. . .melodrama, I _think_ that's the word I seek--no, melodrama is just for the recital. The message is more "See me play the tragic lead but I'm not suited for it ~ Actor for Hire".

Posted

I think beneath the 'highly' dramatic overtones is a truth - the ultimate truth that everyday we must look anew at all those smaller truths in our lives to renew our comitment and our understanding, lest those truths be taken for granted and complacency and even boredom take root.

 

If we do not, it is quite possible we will rush in where we would do better to tread lightly. Would it not be better to defeat the dragon of despair by never entering his den, than by rushing him head-on?

 

Sir William's (just Bill me ;p ) defeat was imminent when he undertook to take care of everyone but himself. This poem is a good reminder of where compassion really starts.

~Zool~

 

Ancient, The Pen is Mightier than the Sword.

 

Bard of Terra, Patron Saint of Aspiring Bards.

 

Elder than dirt, more foolish than a jester, able to trip over the smallest logic in a single step. It's... Oh, you know.

Edited by: Zool47  at: 5/3/02 6:38:37 am

Posted

Actually, I was going for a more simple-beating-of-myself into a submissive state at which point I could get good and depressed without much of a push. But looking back, I have to say this came out pretty well...even if it didn't come out as peppy as I could have wished.

 

Lots of Macabre...

Cioden Darkeye

 

Quill-Bearer - The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

President of the Peredhil Fan Club

Owner of the Reply Raven - Enemy to all those who never post responses

Ashaman - WoT - Blitz II

Council - The Hunters - Blitz II

Leisure Officer - SFV Ultima - Beta

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