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The Tainting of the Gloriana by Callus

Runner Up for July 2006

So far I have written pieces that only concentrated on Celest and the Light.
While Part 2 of Retrospectrum is still in the works, I have decided to take a
long walk down Woe Lane and make a poem about the Tainting of the Gloriana.
This is the fruit of my ponderings and the deep emotional state that I tried to
invoke in order to be able to write this. It is from the partial viewpoint of a
Glomdoring male of an unknown race, in deep sorrow over his lost love in
Magnagora, killed by the Taint. I hope you don't find it too long, and I hope
you, while reading it, fall into the deep trance that I had achieved to write
it. With that said...

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The Tainting of the Gloriana
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The flash and shine a lightning creates
Tears apart the shadow, where under darkness' wing
It's used my chariot to loom for ages,
And if my thoughts had then been 'lone,
They'd have noticed the short escapade
Of their lonely and only wayfarer.
But no spark of my dreamy gaze
Shone on the flash's light, for I was not there.
My thoughts ventured far,
Like migratories that seek the sun,
And they gaze, seeking the fae,
Bold guardians of my memories.
And as the winds of prime memories chill my heart,
In my hands I hold a piece of silk,
The last memento of my one true love.

The soft scents of a wet piece of wood,
Or perhaps the thundering power of a storm,
Made the pain's shades disappear.
And awakened, confused, and of a heavy heart,
I cast I tired look out through the window
To the way 'tween a pit and mountain.

And as I watch the curves through glass,
And a dark rock's spikes
That lies in the great, deep pit,
Posing a mute threat to the passing pilgrim.
My thoughts floated, carried me away,
Spiting the whiteness of far away mountains,
For they are naught but a step further down the way.

I remember her and the strange happiness
When a heart shattered into a million pieces,
And a newer, bigger, more beautiful heart came to be.
Revived by the warm blood of first love,
Carved into my heart as the first spring,
Embedding itself in my memories.
My memory reminds me of days gone past,
When our souls filled with love
Still felt not the wind of darkness
Which prepared to reap our homes.

My memory reminds me of a chapel long forgotten,
Where the shivers of candle light shone on the ivy,
Which bound and covered the tall, cold walls.
And there the first words of love
Broke the rampart of shyness
That until that time stood proudly and firmly,
To prevent the first open shiver of love.

But 'twas such a long time ago
When we understood that strange whim of nature,
And our love then disaappeared,
Fallen into the whirlpool of life.
And never did we realize
What was the origin of that thought which plagued our minds,
But love's elation had already had its moment,
And my chariot already carried it off, away.
Our worlds act as parallel beams,
Beams of Mother Sun whose light shines yellow,
Never to be touched in normal space and time.
And below these chariot wheels
Many paths remain forgotten.

And as the last rays of my memories
Leave the chariot, following the light,
It comes slowly from an eastern council,
It comes rustling with black silk,
It comes, slowly, that master of the night
Called darkness.
Slowly it came, repressing the light,
Slowly it came, that old damsel,
Whispers of the wind were her chums,
For long and long she had been alone,
Since she was separated of the light.

And magnificent blue clouds ruled the skies,
Homes of the tempest and fairies of the storms,
And my soul would start to cheer on them,
For their storms were its wings.
The wind's concord, impressive as ever,
And the great vast expanse of the celestial Nil,
And the treasure chariot's swerve,
As that great force dictated.

And the storm hit fast and strong,
Seats, windows, doors shaking,
And ne'er does a fake calm moment come,
For my soul doesn't feed on the calm anymore.
But the bold, wide tempest cares not,
It is just the foam of a heavenly war.
How terrible and horrible, the moment of fear,
Caused by the giant waves of heaven,
And each wave being one giant cloud,
And all they rushing t'wards the shivering shore.
In that sea of celestial infinity,
Which came down on earth, partnered with the storm,
Not a blink of a fear or shiver was heard,
And every strike of a shining thunder,
Accompanied by the chariot's walls shuddering,
Was the prophet of a terrible crash.
And with the final squeel of the wet wood,
It tottered slowly like an inert invalid,
And as the weeps grew stronger and stronger,
Then I knew my home was lost.

Til then the chariot's insides
Acted as a sanctuary to me and the dark.
And only the dark, master of my soul,
Could resist the air of light
Which came with each flash of thunder
Carried on the windy tempest.
Not even the warm comfort of the chariot
Can fight the freezing cold,
Under the terrible howl of the wind.
And with a last, creepy scream of triumph,
I became the slave of a dark abysm,
For followed by the creepy scream's echo,
The chariot fell from a hilled height.

When the deep pit's shadow swallowed the chariot,
That foreign fall always hungry of death
To give peace to the wandering passenger.
Maybe it did, but I had proven unworthy.

In that moment the feeling's strange,
When fear is a soul's sworn butcher,
And waiting for the lethal break,
It desperately realizes that you're just a mortal.
It shakes, shivers and cries,
And doesn't feel like a body's armor,
And the expecting becomes stronger and stronger,
Waiting for the trumpets of heaven or the fiery depths of hell.
But it did not ask of its life's log,
It spent its last moments surrounded by grey rock,
Untainted by the red and crimson blood of death.

When conciousness passed the trials of darkness,
I realized, that below the body and my soul,
The open pit's jaw waits to devour.
But the soul and body are never alone,
But melded together, giving conciousness
The difficult tsk of not tearing them apart,
But placing them safely on the ground.

Light, then darkness,
Then light once more,
Its beauty knows no shame,
Known to all who dream of it,
Its body and its voice, magical to all,
Seeping slowly into thoughts,
But the thick, veiled shadow on a face
Doesn't let you see a beauty greater than itself,
But only the voice and remainder of a hot breath
Wanders aimlessly through your mind.
It knows secrets unknown to even you,
The secrets of your soul, for it feeds on it
When the truth causes too much pain.
Like hot iron it's spread across the soul,
Bury it deep, under the old elm,
Bury it deep, but a flower will sprout,
For that mysterious woman, that old tree,
Is the subconciousness.
And that flower mucked with truth,
Well bear thorns and terrible news,
Of an awakening whether by illusion, whether by sleep,
An awakening of the truth buried deep.

And I wake up troubled by my dream,
Troubled by my only love.
Coming back from my trip, engaged at last,
And then on a wedding feast,
Between my chair and hers
Barriers suddenly arose,
Enormous rocks became obstacles,
Me, clenching her ripped off veil.
When the light finally became clear,
I realize the rocks of my sleep are,
In fact, an uncomfy bed,
And instead of her veil in my hand,
I hold and clench a piece of silk.
And I look once again out through the window,
Gaze upon the vanquished trees,
Trees that once stood tall and proud,
Now withered under its influence,
Waiting to be reawakened.
Waiting in vain.

Yes, rustle quietly, o green sea,
The branches salute the sky,
The newborn dawn shining upon them.
Why, that could be Yudhe's birthplace,
'tis too beautiful to be of normal existence!
Below the old master of shivering branches,
A chest draws my attention,
A chest containing the old, warm memories,
And the earthly heaven as a flawless place
That suddenly became this forest.
The ghost that flowed slowly through the trees,
Bridging a darkness' grand gap.

The words of theologists and bad thoughts.
And there it was, beneath my feet,
A sea whose drop is a green leaf,
Rustled by the great winds.

I came down slowly, intertly like an old man,
Watching the trees grow as I made my descent,
And watching them, I forgot of the lame knee,
Of the broken elbow,
Of the sprained ankle,
Of the pain in my back caused by old age â€"
For I stood in the entrance of a new forest empire.