10-14-2008, 09:37 PM
There are many poems which have been submitted to these boards over the years, most of which are far too short to form a "book" in their own right. Therefore I've decided, why don't we make a single big book of poetry? Many of these are mystical or philosophical, but often in radically different ways. As a group, they're fascinating. Some even contain elaborate hidden codes. I think combining them into one volume would make a lot of sense.
The Crossroads between the Ways
by Adanorcil of Artaeum
I stood upon the steps of fate.
A crossroads between the Ways.
I saw the Old Way, paved with tradition
With souls of those before, hearts of those after
With the chants of ancient hermits and
scriptures of ascendents in days gone by.
I saw that the Way was long, and that it came from afar.
Many had once walked that path, but its silver
sheen was now dull and matted by many treading feet.
I saw the New Way, paved with ambition
With wisdom of sages, temerity of the bold
With the constructs of golden engineers and
guidings of livings deities in their eternal glory.
I saw that this road too was long, yet it appealed to me.
Many had walked this path, but its golden
radiance was still bright and polished by many treading feet
I stood upon the steps of fate.
A crossroads between the Ways.
I went my Way and never looked back.
A Prophecy
by Dosh Khaleen
Close your borders to this change,
Forget what brought you to this place.
(--|-|--( o )--|-|--)
A seed of strive falls from the tree of folly.
Where there was one there are now many,
Where there were many there is only one.
And as the ash came from the mountain spewing,
So too did those who came behind.
The ancients stir now in their hallowed hollows,
Singing songs of separation and of war.
And they whose ears now only listen
Interpret ancient word to be the law.
He whose tongue is sharp but mind is duller asks:
"What does this mean?"
He whose schemes are grand but means are lesser asks:
"What is the purpose?"
He who with words enslaves but does not see the knowledge asks:
"Who said this?"
They whose loyalties lie broken,
They whose talents are now failing,
They whose minds are filled with clutter,
They who follow every word reply:
"We do not know."
And with that a smirk It gives, and in the darkness mutters:
"So is your fate, for there are only winners and the dead."
(--|-|--( o )--|-|--)
And with clouded eyes you try to follow,
Principles long known as false.
Two Flowers
by Ataridante of High Rock
To my mothers skirt I cling,
Far flows my emerald gown
And on my crown there sits this thing
For hue it is renowned.
Nirn's gift I am, handmaid to soil
I dance in gentle breeze.
And by thy hand, through tireless toil
I blossom just for thee.
Sleep-talking of the Dreamers
from the ravings of DeVulpis
The mind is dark. HE sees. I see not.
Ash mountain, burning in Morrowind's heart
My face is ash. I think I was once human,
But the mind is dark. He sees. I see not.
Ash mountain, burning in Morrowind's heart
I see shadows. Fire I can see,
The shapes of thoughts, flickering across minds,
And is that a shimmering blackness in a hero's heart?
Ash mountain. Burning, in my own heart
I have given up all my humanity
I have loved the tentacles on my face
Ash mountain. From Ash is power.
The mind is dark, HE sees what I see not
I will follow him. To Darkness. And power,
Power that burns from me and freezes the heart
that no longer beats to stop my ascent
Ash mountain, burn. For my own part
I know that I would burn all living hearts
To find that which I lust for all eternity
To grow power from bloodlust's fertility
(The answers to the riddles are Ash slave, zombie, ghoul, ascended, and Dagoth himself.)
Song of the Nerevarine
said to be written by a certain wandering Journeyman going by the name of Rhineville
Past the shore and through the rain
Bitter Coast of thoughts and pain
To Balmora, Hlaalu's stain
Moon and Star sought once again.
In the guilds of sword and spell
Earned my life and earned my hell
Why I dreamed I could not tell
My own mind became my cell.
Iron's rust and Silver's sheen
One to crush and one to keen
What other horrors I have seen
To earn the name Nerevarine.
To the spire wrapped in red
'I am your friend' the demon said
Too many lies I have been fed
Heart freed and Gods and demon dead.
The Throne is a Mirror
from the ravings of DeVulpis
I see you through your own eyes
Subject, I am of thee, my Ruler
I fear thee, I love thee, I hate thee
And I wonder what it is to be thee
I am. I AM, and this land exists
and is defined by me
and could be defiled by me
or deified - such is the choice
of myriad destinies coursing through one life
this life, that holds your destinies surging through my hands
My Royal Will containing all your inchoate energies
Directing it to the Goal of mine choice
(Yet in my mind, deep, mocking
I hear that sneer that calls:
"Rulers are just as puppets to Fate
And they shall, in due time, fall!)
I reign, and daily from my throne
I ponder: weather, weal, woe
Magic and Might, sword and Mage-Staff
And last night's dinner, was that enchanted?
The ambition of peasant and Duke,
The greed of thief and Merchant
The Lore of Adventurer and Mage
The tales of Traveller and Stranger -
All reflected in this land, in me,
All reflected in this mind that rules
All reflected in the heart of a Kingdom
The Throne's a mirror of men's hearts.
The Crossroads between the Ways
by Adanorcil of Artaeum
I stood upon the steps of fate.
A crossroads between the Ways.
I saw the Old Way, paved with tradition
With souls of those before, hearts of those after
With the chants of ancient hermits and
scriptures of ascendents in days gone by.
I saw that the Way was long, and that it came from afar.
Many had once walked that path, but its silver
sheen was now dull and matted by many treading feet.
I saw the New Way, paved with ambition
With wisdom of sages, temerity of the bold
With the constructs of golden engineers and
guidings of livings deities in their eternal glory.
I saw that this road too was long, yet it appealed to me.
Many had walked this path, but its golden
radiance was still bright and polished by many treading feet
I stood upon the steps of fate.
A crossroads between the Ways.
I went my Way and never looked back.
A Prophecy
by Dosh Khaleen
Close your borders to this change,
Forget what brought you to this place.
(--|-|--( o )--|-|--)
A seed of strive falls from the tree of folly.
Where there was one there are now many,
Where there were many there is only one.
And as the ash came from the mountain spewing,
So too did those who came behind.
The ancients stir now in their hallowed hollows,
Singing songs of separation and of war.
And they whose ears now only listen
Interpret ancient word to be the law.
He whose tongue is sharp but mind is duller asks:
"What does this mean?"
He whose schemes are grand but means are lesser asks:
"What is the purpose?"
He who with words enslaves but does not see the knowledge asks:
"Who said this?"
They whose loyalties lie broken,
They whose talents are now failing,
They whose minds are filled with clutter,
They who follow every word reply:
"We do not know."
And with that a smirk It gives, and in the darkness mutters:
"So is your fate, for there are only winners and the dead."
(--|-|--( o )--|-|--)
And with clouded eyes you try to follow,
Principles long known as false.
Two Flowers
by Ataridante of High Rock
To my mothers skirt I cling,
Far flows my emerald gown
And on my crown there sits this thing
For hue it is renowned.
Nirn's gift I am, handmaid to soil
I dance in gentle breeze.
And by thy hand, through tireless toil
I blossom just for thee.
Sleep-talking of the Dreamers
from the ravings of DeVulpis
The mind is dark. HE sees. I see not.
Ash mountain, burning in Morrowind's heart
My face is ash. I think I was once human,
But the mind is dark. He sees. I see not.
Ash mountain, burning in Morrowind's heart
I see shadows. Fire I can see,
The shapes of thoughts, flickering across minds,
And is that a shimmering blackness in a hero's heart?
Ash mountain. Burning, in my own heart
I have given up all my humanity
I have loved the tentacles on my face
Ash mountain. From Ash is power.
The mind is dark, HE sees what I see not
I will follow him. To Darkness. And power,
Power that burns from me and freezes the heart
that no longer beats to stop my ascent
Ash mountain, burn. For my own part
I know that I would burn all living hearts
To find that which I lust for all eternity
To grow power from bloodlust's fertility
(The answers to the riddles are Ash slave, zombie, ghoul, ascended, and Dagoth himself.)
Song of the Nerevarine
said to be written by a certain wandering Journeyman going by the name of Rhineville
Past the shore and through the rain
Bitter Coast of thoughts and pain
To Balmora, Hlaalu's stain
Moon and Star sought once again.
In the guilds of sword and spell
Earned my life and earned my hell
Why I dreamed I could not tell
My own mind became my cell.
Iron's rust and Silver's sheen
One to crush and one to keen
What other horrors I have seen
To earn the name Nerevarine.
To the spire wrapped in red
'I am your friend' the demon said
Too many lies I have been fed
Heart freed and Gods and demon dead.
The Throne is a Mirror
from the ravings of DeVulpis
I see you through your own eyes
Subject, I am of thee, my Ruler
I fear thee, I love thee, I hate thee
And I wonder what it is to be thee
I am. I AM, and this land exists
and is defined by me
and could be defiled by me
or deified - such is the choice
of myriad destinies coursing through one life
this life, that holds your destinies surging through my hands
My Royal Will containing all your inchoate energies
Directing it to the Goal of mine choice
(Yet in my mind, deep, mocking
I hear that sneer that calls:
"Rulers are just as puppets to Fate
And they shall, in due time, fall!)
I reign, and daily from my throne
I ponder: weather, weal, woe
Magic and Might, sword and Mage-Staff
And last night's dinner, was that enchanted?
The ambition of peasant and Duke,
The greed of thief and Merchant
The Lore of Adventurer and Mage
The tales of Traveller and Stranger -
All reflected in this land, in me,
All reflected in this mind that rules
All reflected in the heart of a Kingdom
The Throne's a mirror of men's hearts.