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Fanfiction ► My Poems

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Blackest Night

High Priest of Sloanism
Apr 15, 2004
Depends upon the day and if there is free pizza.
My prose is much too long to fit into this thread. Thus, I've decided to show you every poem I've ever written and managed not to loose. Opinions are very much welcomed, especially if they contain details.

Beat The Drums

Beat the drums
Sound the horns
The Sirens are coming home

Listen to them sing
Listen to them speak
Let loose of your mind
Feel your soul grow weak

Spoken silk caresses the heart
Gossamer words infect the mind.
Leave your woes behind

Within each laugh, a hiss
First, a lovely kiss
Then fall into the black abyss.

Beat the drums
Sound the horns
The Sirens are coming home

Such beauty
Such grace
Such evil behind such delicate lace

Let them drain you
Let them feed
Let their words fulfill your every need

You want no other
You desire no more
You’ve been seduced by a songstress
A sinner, a whore

Beat the drums
Sound the horns
The Sirens are coming home

I long

I Long.

To die
To live
To breathe again

To kill
To cure
To slaughter man

To curse
To praise
To mute
To raze

To ravage and burn
To feel desire
To bear concern

When the winds begin to churn
And when the hands begin to turn
I’ll bear the mask and pray I learn
But even then, I’ll always yearn

To rage and enflame
To pass the blame
To carry on the sinful game

For ages past and years gone by
Where love was scarce and blood ran dry.
For future times when I will try
To shed this skin and begin to fly

Once Upon a Twilight Past

Once upon a twilight past
A man was born and led to fast
To bring an act of God to pass
Once upon a twilight past.

He saw but scum and mice and rats
Wretched, filthy, dirty trash
He set about his blessed task
Once upon a twilight past.

On every road, all beaten paths
He saw all towns, wrought to ash
Blistering scars, one gaping gash
Once upon a twilight past.

One night, among the untouched grass
Where there were no men, and no more tracks
He found there peace, felt no distress
Once upon a twilight past.

In here, he thought, he would find rest.
In here, he thought, he would do best.
He would put others to the test
Once upon a twilight past.

While here, he thought, there were no trysts
Within, he declared, there were no fists
In here, he said, they’d just exist.
Once upon a twilight past.

They had, of course, all failed the test
They ran, he saw, back towards the gash.
And so he sat alone, no guests.
Once upon a twilight past.

The Rejection of Beauty

Oh, the simple elegance
That lies within our world.
The kind of beauty that would amaze
If only we could see.

The purest white of driven snow
The hushed serenade of rain
Each, in turn, rejected.
Discarded for iron and steam.

Found a nuisance by man
Yet rejoiced by all other creatures,
Nature has been lost to towers of metal
The simple bliss covered by ebon smoke.

The twisted hears of those it shelters
Have been filled with greed.
By embracing technology, they seek to be
Like he who made man from clay.

When industry falls
And steel spire crumble,
When the hearts of greed find their end,
The war of vice and virtue over,
Nature shall reclaim its land
And return it all to Jungle.


I’ve seen many black nights
And faced countless endless days
I’ve fallen deep into lust
Then risen above the waves.

My quest was long and painful
But I do now long for more
I yearn to step through golden ash
And weather the fiery storm

The oceans glitter with gold
Light has broken beyond the seas.
The depths grumble with blackened beasts
Night has fallen with silken ease

I’ve since lost track. I do not know
Is day night, or is night day?
Time has left me all alone
To hold the blackened dreams at bay.

What drug is this, that pulls me so?
What life was it; who’s time?
Brilliant shadows, darkened lights
These memories, are they mine?

It must have been that siren’s song
I heard it along the beach
Her voice was sweet, sweet honey.
Yet she was just beyond my reach

It’s now been my undoing, I see.
I need her, feel her, more!
Should have left, but there I stayed
On the vast and empty shore

Here I stand, not angel, not man
Not demon, and no knave
I am here now, a broken fan
A willing, mournful slave

I do not care, no longer pray
When shining night becomes darkened day
I am here now, and all I say
Is I do not know the way.
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Miss Murder

You're quite the exquisite poet, BN. Even reading your poems made me feel slightly more intelligent.

Let's see now ... I have little to no critique to give on your work, but I can give individual comments.

Beat the Drums: Ah, an excellent beat. Quite fitting. Also, excellently descriptive. For this poem I am glad to say I have no critique to give. It is more than likely at its best, and its unlikely that it could be improved.

I long: Not a constant beat, I see. That does not make it any worse, by all means, but makes it individual and unique ( further than a poem already is, so to speak ). Very emotional, and the words used are dramatic and powerful. A very nice piece.

Once Upon a Twilight Past: I've always been a fan of poems that tell a story, of sorts. This is no exception. I would be interested in hearing your inspiration for writing this, BN.

The Rejection of Beauty: Probably my personal favourite out of the lot. It has the ability to relate to many peoples' thoughts about today, but that's only one level of its comprehension.

I: Quite emotional and excellent, to say the least. I particularly like its format. As with Once Upon a Twilight Past I would be interested in hearing your thoughts leading up to writing this.


A few quick comments to your work.
One question, though ... which of these was most recently written? Just wondering.

Nice job, BN. Clearly you don't only excell in expressing yourself through RPing, but writing as well.
Do you cater too?

Well, that's all I have to say.

- Lycy

Blackest Night

High Priest of Sloanism
Apr 15, 2004
Depends upon the day and if there is free pizza.
In chronological order, tearliest to most recent, the poems are as follows:

The Rejection of Beauty


I Long

Beat the Drums

Once Upon a Twilight Past

Once Upon a Twilight Past was, along with all of my poems, written as a spur of the moment decision. I type all of my poems up on the computer and I was listening to "Where is Your Heart" by Kelly Clarkson. The lyrics of a song have no effect upon my writings, Just the sound. To be honest, when I was writing this poem, i was thinking of one of my friends. He's a very religious fellow, but he's often let down by many others because they don't share his level of virtue.

I wrote I when I was pissed, depressed, and lonely. The End. ^_^

Sadly, I do not cater. I mime rather well, though.

Blackest Night

High Priest of Sloanism
Apr 15, 2004
Depends upon the day and if there is free pizza.
I've not yet felt the light of day
Nor have I felt the night
I have not watched the dolphins swim
Or seen the birds take flight.

I was there when nothing was
I'll be there for the end
But I have not felt the joy of life
Or the sadness I cand mend

I was there when the candles were blown out
I was there when the babe was born
I was there when the clock struck twelve
and when all seemed forlorn

The mountains were carved under my care
I can end life at a whim
I've healed wounds, and cured the sick
But I cannot sing, nor dance, nor swim.

It is indeed a lonely thing
to be the father, the mother
But I've seen them cry, and laugh, and grin
And I do not long for any other

Blackest Night

High Priest of Sloanism
Apr 15, 2004
Depends upon the day and if there is free pizza.
I stood there, barefoot, on the sand
with an empty mouth and open hand
It was hot, it was lonesome, dry, and gray.
I waited there to be shown the way.

No one came. I never thought they would.
I closed my hand and set out on foot.
I would not wait, I would not be still.
The vulture's cries were sad, and shrill.

With every step, the desert faded.
Through sheer resolve, my end, abated.
Though I was alone, there was no pain.
I sweat, but the smile did not wane.

When I was done, I Eden.
For the first time, I had truly eaten.
I saw the Lord, and he said to me
That in my strength, i was greater than He.

I'd done what others hardly dared.
I led myself, a trait most rare.
I needed no leader, nor did I desire
to be led to rapture by a priest-for-hire.

No particular feelings about this. just felt like writing.
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