Vade in Pace

[Matteo]

"Pour vous, mon ami... or am I being too presumptuous? At any rate, 'tis a pleasure to stand before you once again, if not a little unsettling in a 'deja vu' sense. Please take this as my application, necessary or not, I feel it is needed." His hand dropped to the reptilian master's desk with a single parchment in carefull embrace; abandoned upon arival, it drifted the final centemeter to its inevitable rest, "Please, M'Lord, take this and judge me by that which it holds, for if not by its scripture then by no other manner shall I be afforded membership."

 

That parchment, dwarfed among the multitude of monotony before Wyvern, reads as thus:

 

 

Vade in Pace

 

To brush wings with an angel, ambrosia’s hymn upon her tongue,

I long for her fidelity, her wishes mine to hear.

Yet afflicted I stand, thine damned travesty behest my woe;

To shed of affection, a liquid testament of my yearning… a tear.

 

It once was said, “Amantes sunt amentes”, lovers are lunatics,

Yet each waking hour… nay, all those spent in life’s adherence,

I find myself akin not to this, yet still it brands me

To those opposed me in fondness’ perseverance.

 

‘twixt delicate temptation, her words pass unhindered by the beauty they possess,

Yet loath I touch that velvet lure… alas, I fear,

I’d be drawn yet further into that fondness I dread, yet embrace with such fervour.

‘tis a horrid thing this unrequited love, so dear.

 

Portals ‘ere the soul entwined, mine own entranced,

Her eyes shimmer of unheard testimony, my piety’s brink,

A truth withheld from that whose world is hers in an instant,

I’d search, and loose myself there for hours, lest she blink.

 

I long to be near she who holds my heart but does not know it,

Her very essence nourishes that which she has thieved

So aptly yet so ignorantly so. None too bold

In fortunes grace, I seek her warmth… in cold I grieve.

 

My voice a shadow’s whisper for kindness as twilight fades,

No ears they tease, with soft renditions of times not shared,

This mortal cage too cruel a warden, but soft in its dealings

With death, when bindings sloughed off, a forfeit life declared.

 

Against the clouds, her wings a-flutter, I mourn the loss;

Her hallowed visage torments me as heart in hand,

I cede my love. She takes my marrow to the heavens;

Without a voice, my cries reach not her ears to understand.

 

I now know my ignorance, “Amantes sunt amantes”…how true it is…

[Justin Silverblade]

Wow....

 

As usual Matteo - you certainly do NOT disappoint with your words. An amazing piece - and I'm not just giving blind praise. I really think this is excellent work. I'd uh... talk about it... but in all truth it intimidates me quite a bit. I shall re-read it again though; of that I can assure you.

 

You took a topic that could easily become cliche, and made it come from the bottom of the speaker's soul. Wonderful and certainly worthy of re-attaining your previous position in the Pen I think - had I any power in that particular branch. But I don't, so we shall have to wait for the almighty Wyvern, as per usual.

 

Wonderful poetry.

 

- Justin

[Salinye]

Well, as the hopeless romantic that I forever am I can tell you I LOVE this peice. LOVE this piece. (I'll warn you in advance, it's late and there are bound to be a gazillion typos and spelling errors, but I"m too tired and lazy to correct them lol)

 

This is truly beautiful. I echo Justin's thoughts of you taking something that could be cliche and making it new and beautiful as if the concept of mourning a love lost was something new.

 

Thank you so much for gracing us with this lovely writing.

 

~Salinye

[Alaeha]

A beautiful poem... You have my respect for managing to write about something so often written about without seeming like an echo of other works. I may only be revealing my own ignorance in saying so (and if so, I apologize most sincerely for the mistake) but though I loved this poem, the rhythm/flow seemed to me to be rather rough. Perhaps it only seems so because I'm accustomed to writing in a somewhat more closed form myself, but I feel somewhat obliged to mention it.

 

*Sighs* Lovers are Lunatics... Unfortunately, that is entirely too true...

[Wyvern]

Matteo patiently taps his foot and leans back in his applicant easychair, wondering how much longer the overgrown lizard would take to arrive but well prepared for a long wait having experienced the acceptance process of the Elder of Initiates first hand previously... The Quill Bearer/applicant hums merrily to himself as he finishes the first quarter of the Complete Works of Shakespeare which he brought along to the office as reading material, carefully patting his bag containing the Complete Works of Milton and A Brief Summary of the English Language in 130 Volumes which he had brought in case the greedy lizard was out on one of his extended "lunch breaks." Laughing at a particularly funny passage from Twelth Night, the Pen member's reading is suddenly cut short as the Office door slams open and Wyvern comes storming in...

 

Striding passed Matteo and not immediatly noticing the seated applicant, Wyvern grumbles a long stream of curses as he tears several wet maps that he holds to pieces. After he's finished this, the lizard tosses the remains into a nearby, overflowing trash bin and brushes off some of the wetness from his clothes. Suddenly noticing the old/new applicant seated in one of the Office easychairs, the reptilian Elder turns and extends a scaly claw in greeting.

 

"Hi there! Apologies for the wait... I was out searching for this place called the Crystal Ti-"

 

The overgrown lizard suddenly stops and his eyes widen as he notices that Matteo bears the familiar visage of the venerable Pen member Foe Calibur. The applicant *gulps* as an evil grin spreads across Wyvern's face and the lizard points a scaly finger at the name written on top of the application:

 

"Fooooooooe Caaaaaalibuuuur!" exclaims the lizard happily. "Long time no see... I notice a name change has taken place, most interesting... What a coincidence, I was just out searching for those wealthy sounding Crystal Tides you had informed me of earlier. Unfortunately, I've only found these so far..."

 

With that, Wyvern hands Matteo several faded photographs... one of them is a picture of a completely normal woodland stream labeled "Small Grey Rock Tides", another is a picture of a city fountain labeled "Insignificant Copper Tides", and the final photo is one of a pond next to a nuclear power plant labeled "Plutonium Tides"...

 

Matteo clears his throat a bit and sets the photos aside, noting that the overgrown lizard hadn't gotten any better at scheming in his absence... in fact, it seemed that Wyvern had yet to discover that the Crystal Tides was the name of a previous guild rather than an actual physical location...

 

"You'll have to further inform of its location sometime..." hisses the greedy lizard sinisterly. "For now, this is an excellent poem, not to mention an excellent explanation of why there's so much steamy chocolate mud wrestling and a Den of Iniquity in AoA... Lunatics equal lovers indeed... Certainly an ACCEPTED application, though since you're already a member here you have been reinstated to your previous rank of Quill Bearer. Merci pour cette piece excellente quand meme!"

 

OOC: Welcome back Foe! Apologies for the lateness in responding, it's certainly great to have you back writing with us. As I said in my response, this definitely counts as an ACCEPTED application, though since you were a member previously you automatically regain your old rank. Once again, welcome!