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Noir Kalenthiel
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#1
Old 04-28-2007, 03:12 AM

Yeah... I suck. I wrote a ton of emo poetry when I was a teen, and I kept it... *rolls eyes* Eh. View the suckage! I just kinda look over this stuff and think how I have grown as a writer.

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#2
Old 04-28-2007, 03:13 AM

.:mercy.of.dreams:.

tears in the distance
down silvered cheeks
the agony of sadness
that tears at heart
and soul alike as the
wind whips up the valley
the pain of sacrifice
deeply cutting at the
skin over a weakened
body of a woman
just waiting for the
mercy of sleep
to take her away from
the darkness of the
past that haunts her
and to the days in
the unseeable future
where she could find
the peace she so desires
in the form that is
dreams

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#3
Old 04-28-2007, 03:13 AM

.:who.will.carry.me:.

is this world lost
is it broken
covered in the violence
of humanity
will no one carry me
wounded and injured
dying on the battle field
i carry this sword in vain
fighting a losing battle
i just want to close my eyes
just so tired with my helplessness
i just cannot think of how
nothing here is real
otherwise
how could we ever kill our brothers
must i let everything
just fall around us
covered in the blood of war
violence seems to be worthless
when the sun runs out
will any of this matter
so why do we embrace it
like our true family
why do we go to war
for worthless reasons
why do we even start in the morning
if this is our end
i will ask again
who will carry me
as my life's blood
pools around me
i slowly die
who will carry me away
i am so scared
there are still things
that i have still not done
i must find my own truth still
is this my end
the end of mankind
i can't start again
hopelessness
despair and death
violence
i can't return
no truth left that i can see
i am just waiting
for this day to end

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#4
Old 04-28-2007, 03:14 AM

.:dead.sunsets:.

black waves of ocean water
lap at my feet
voices run rampant
through my mind
was my childhood real
as were any
of the other childhoods
on this sick world
am i true
i stare blankly
at a dead sunset
a bloodred sun
melting below the horizon
blood red with the abuse
we have given it
to our own life giving air
our weapon was
the pollution of mankind
something that made
the sunset so beautiful
by at what cost
the deadness of the air
that surrounds
i remember a childhood
with so many
of these blood red sunsets
so beautiful
but never being able
to play outside
to play normally
i was locked indoors
like all my friends
so it didn't seem
all that strange
the air was too
dangerous to breathe
unlike the air
at the turn of the century
we see vids of clean air
but only the rich people
know that luxury
i look from the sunset
in rememberance
to my feet
washed in the poisoned sea
my body in a full EVA suit
needed to live
on the harsh realities
of the planet earth
i then look to the sky
we no longer
see stars anymore
has our hope for the future fled
with the arrival
of the dead sunsets

Noir Kalenthiel
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#5
Old 04-28-2007, 03:14 AM

.:a.wayward.wind:.

the desert is windblown
filled with the secrets
of yesterdays gone
a lone horse speeds
across the dunes
a path of listless sand
the only marker of
where his hooves
have passed
secrets are deep
upon the air
as the heavens
scream in heraldry
dances are caught
in the swaying breeze
voices fall on
unseen gypsies
as the wind is passed
to the next bearer
a woman on a lone cliff
her tears falling unseen
as she falls
jumping over the edge
the weight of gravity
caressing her
a silent lover
in a unimaginable form
tangible destiny
once again hard
and unyielding to
the cries of man
the battlefield is spent
the warrior weary
his sword heavy
in his bloody hand
he looks to the east
all there is
are true regrets
a pair of lovers go
their seperate ways
as love calls on
it wings to fly
and it all swirls down
to good night

Noir Kalenthiel
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#6
Old 04-28-2007, 03:15 AM

.:the.slaughterhouse:.

lambs are at the gate
silent as could be
the dark is intruding
on their fragile sleep
as the sins of the day
'come clearing in the
light
of a solitary candle
they pound for
sanctuary
from their burgeoning
fears of the stars ahead
is this love for night
pagan
wrong
evil
and yet they are
lambs of god
they could never think
a thought not taught them
so they run
fear

doki doki...
...doki doki

and yet the maiden
the mother and crone
they stand on the crest
of the hill
looking down sadly
upon the fools
below
caught in their own
ignorance and bigotry
refusing to see
the beauty of the waxing
moon brightly coloring
the evening sky
for their is never light
without dark
nor is there ever dark
without light

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#7
Old 04-28-2007, 03:15 AM

.:by.popular.demand:.

well by popular demand
tomorrow will be held off
for today once more
the days will still be
progressing as slow
as ever as always
depression and misery
still are our gods
and humanity is still
a cold myth meant
to stir the masses
lies and deception still
rule our governments
the only true values
to this broken family
nation of pretenders
marriage is a prenup
money the cause for
questing for power
sex upon the beach
is replaced by more
conventional and
economical rape
once upon a time
is replaced by
stock market today
coldness of the tube
and the mush of a
braindead society
vegatables one and all
rebels with a cause
not really
just joking
frozen fathers just
waiting for mothers
just out of childhood
to cradle children
in the bloodlust and hate
of the government paid
womb of welfare
what the hell has
today so popular
when tomorrow could be
a change of pace

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#8
Old 04-28-2007, 03:15 AM

.:six.feet.from.the.edge:.

six feet from the edge
and nothing restraining me
I might go into my slumber
crying for you to save me
or just ponder the moon
above my head
staring down on the girl
sitting in a grave
alive as you or me
surrounded by the death
of the culture of the masses
crying for you to hold me
or for the day to come
sooner rather than later
the berth of thunder
in the distance
roaring overhead
as the dark clouds roll in
and yet she's still just
six feet from the edge
crying for you to love me
or for the tears to end
and for the light to bath her
in the dim hole where
she has found herself
a hole of her own concoction
from the root of her own troubles
from a world that is
no longer safe
she is just trying to escape
the rain pouring down
the puddles surrounding her
and the troubles encompassed
by the night as she's
curled up in a tiny ball
crying for you to save me
from that place
six feet from the edge
in the grave of her own
imagining and creation
and the further crimes
upon her soul

Noir Kalenthiel
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#9
Old 04-28-2007, 03:16 AM

.:the.forest.is:.

the forest is...
silent today
the trees crying
for that
which is lost
but not a sound
upon careful ears
grace is lent
to the breeze
kibishii nazo o toku
over and over
sad music plays
while melancoly
dancers sway
in the breeze
their heads cocked
kiku...
...kiku
yet nothing comes
all is as before
silent
as all the days before
demon breezes clutter
the weeks and years

the forest is...
dead as ever
giving off a
false light
false dreams
false hopes
to a broken populace
rolling in
its restless slumber
as man breaks
its back
over the world
its pride is stolen
broken and gone
and voices only
whisper warily
tired and worn
the glory is absent
its days are past

the forest is gone

Noir Kalenthiel
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#10
Old 04-28-2007, 03:17 AM

Yeah... that's all the ones I happen to have.... Really sucktastic, but I figured I put them up if some one happened to enjoy them. *shrugs*

Noir Kalenthiel
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#11
Old 04-28-2007, 03:20 AM

Eh... maybe one more though it is more of a bit of prose than anything....

.:who.am.i:.

Who am I, really? A speck of universal dust on some giant scale? Well, if I am, I am at least one with the lightest of touches that can create beauty on a canvas, or full scale wars with a pen. I am the soul that lends a touch of life to thousands of people that would never exist, except for in the dark corners of my mind. I am the product of the modern world, shaped by the times, but never quite conforming to any box that life might try to put me in. But, I am also the product of two individuals whose love for each other created something that is more wondrous than anything I could ever write. A life. I am a life, the incarnation of it, if you will. The candle that burns for longer than any shaped by a man's hand. And the subtle wind that never lasts that long when compared to its mother, the Earth. Wild, and weird, that is who I am also. I glow with the thought that I am unique, different from any other being that has placed their feet upon this planet. I am strange, and tread on my own path that I forge for myself, not placing my feet into the shoes of another person. After all, that is not me. I am a past, and with that, I am also a family. A family that lends a part of themselves to create me, a strange concoction of nationalities and customs, of faiths and dreams. A past that molds me to who I am and who I will be the next day. Most of all, though, I am a mystery, even to myself. All there is to truly know, I don't know all of it. I might change, and I might stay the way I am this moment. For that is all I truly know. What I am at this moment.

Noir Kalenthiel
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#12
Old 04-28-2007, 03:22 AM

.:broken.streets:.

the streets are broken now. all traces of life lost in the storms of war. the people couldn't learn to love, and therefore, the people had killed each other off. after all, if we can't get along, then why don't we just end it now before more suffering comes forth? shades and spirits are the only life that is left here, and nothing else would dare to come within the confines of the once great city, for fear of even more death. for the earth here radiates violence and malice, but not in radiation. no, but in a pure aura of hate and misery that can drive a man to insanity just by walking across the broken soil, shattered glass, and seared grass.

but for some strange reason, one individual can live within the tragedy. a small girl walking lost and alone through the tangles of debris that once formed the steel jungle. she exemplifies innocence. inncence lost, innocence gained, an innocence forbidden to the world since the killing began.

she laughs, a foreign sound to this city, dead for so many years. laughter? what is this?

be hind her are flowers, living grass, and clean air. nothing more foreign than that to the great towers, collapsing under the weight of ages. Those things were only myths! legends!

people, once wild and mad, pissing on themselves like animals, come out from their caves in the debris, their eyes filled with hope and sanity, and gaze in wornder at the innocence before them, laughing and dancing with her. their worries gone.

the city is confused now, losing an edge to its aura of disaster. who is this tiny child? the child doesn't answer, just looking up and smiling at the great beams of steel that fall about her as the city collapses in absolute confusion.

why? why? why?

she laughs once more and waving to the city and the people dancing with her, the girl disappears, much like another shade, leaving only a single white rose behind. the only proof she was there.

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#13
Old 04-28-2007, 03:23 AM

.:cat'thya.t'kaani.at.beryl.inn:.

i walk through the forest silently, trying to remember if i had been here before. the ground and the tree are dressed in the white of snow, yet it is strangely warm here.

all i know is my name. HE said it when we were in the tavern together, a chance meeting with a soldier from my unknown past. HE called me a princess, his princess. the princess kesara sky teriana blacksong, the lost heiress to the beautiful northern empire. future empress to the blacksong empire, built from scratch by the mighty tokai blacksong over six hundred years ago.

i couldn't even begin to believe it. sure, i had lost my memory when i was young, making me take on the role of cat'thya t'kaani, a powerful clan mage in her own right. but while i thought, my mind went to the man in black with the long white hair. such a cruel man, killing my daughter by him the way he did.

she was just an infant! a newborn! ah, my sweet ikari, how i miss you. damn him and cartath'en anyway.

strange, i couldn't remember my white haired husband's name, but then again, i didn't remember much. i wasn't even sure of my age of twenty-five years.

who am i?

who was i?

no answers come to me, and i drop to the snow. only to feel myself being picked up gently and carried back to the inn. i know this feeling, for some reason, but it's too vague.

i look up into the face of the man who carries me and see HIM, the soldier who knew my past. the man that made me feel warm inside and loved. made me feel like i had finally arrived home. the person i loved with all my heart and soul across time itself.

blackie blackeye.

~from the journal of moon goddess kesara sky blacksong-blackeye

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#14
Old 04-28-2007, 03:25 AM

This has actually been edited repeatedly, but this is the original version of this. And it is a story myself and two of my friends IRL have worked on for going on 10 years now.


.:the.black.end.game:.

He could feel his heart stop for a moment, his sword still brought to bear to the slim neck of the betrayer goddess, Ebony. He didn't quite understand what had made him feel so torn in an instant of triumph over the backhanded goddess that had created the monster known as Thunder.

And yet through all of the confusion of his disquieted mind, a part of him that had slept for so many years beneath the locks of time itself, the part of his heart that he had thought he had lost when Amber was lost so many ages ago, awoke, screaming out it's misery.

And he brought his hands to his ears allowing Ebony her room, backing away, groaning and whining like a heavily injured wolf. Blackie didn't understand it, but the voice kept screaming at him like a dam had broken inside himself and had released every single demon that had ever haunted his life. Amber's death, first and foremost. The pre-birth. The changelings dancing to their own dance durge of death.Sam Bearclaw's sacrifice to allow him to escape Thunder's grasp. Ne'toma and Destiny, lost in that fire so long ago when his journey was just beginning.

Blackie fought with the voices of despair that fought for attention in his mind. They drug him through the memory of every friend of his that had ever died, the pain of the memories, the loneliness when he decided to forever be alone until he found the one person who would never leave him alone. Ah, so alone!

That was his true fear. That blank space of changeling death, being so alone, no one to be comforted by. And yet, why was he so alnoe now? He could feel it in the very base of his soul, that he was finally, completely alone, abandoned in the world with no one to support him, to keep him from Thunde's grasp, the hand that the evil man had over his heart. He had never elt this way before and now the pain was agonizing, forcing him to his knees.

Yet, in all the chaos, once voice screamed clearer than the rest, a bright dream-like picture coming to his eyes, clear as da. It was a silver haired, bright eyed little girl, looking over her shoulder at him for approval. A gangly, auburn haired teenager, asking him to teach her how to dance. A slim and elegant young woman, weaving a spell and winking at him across a crowded room filled with courtiers. A tired, yet beautiful woman, being picked up out of the snow, before she froze, then looking over battle maps, telling him to head home and rest himself. A gentle mother, peacefully nurturing her children.

Sky.

Blackie reached out to her, her eyes gazing across the room, not seeing Ebony, going straight through him, in little girl form once more, gazing over her shoulder. Blackie cried out with pain, stumbling to his feet, fighting his way over to her, his hand over his heart hole feeling something beat in there, sending jolts of pain through his body.

"Blackie?" He heard the vision say, clearly, banishing all the other voices, as her ghostly white wings came out of her back fully, "What is eternity?"

Blackie choked on his tears and groaned long and deep, and then he knew.

The vision shattered into a million pieces and was followed by a long scream, from a voice he bearly recognized as his own as he collapsed to the floor.

Sky had been taken away from him. He was totally alone in the world now.

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#15
Old 04-28-2007, 03:26 AM

Or basically this one and the two before arre all parts of the Black. The same story I mentioned above....

.:drifting:.

She had been drifting about the world for centuries now, avoiding her parents in her supreme loneliness at the loss of Sententva from the overworld. He now had his own life, and was paving the way for her introduction into Sente, but he didn't seem to remember their love. He mourned others, had loved others, but was not living as lonesome as she. He at least had love within his cruel life. In this wraith form that she assumed on the mortal plain, Kesara had destiny and little else. She became angry and resentful, drifting about, haunting Sententva's steps across these forests and mountains. She was jealous of Ne'toma, so she assisted the flames, fanning the small fire higher and higher, burning her and little Destiny alive.

Fitting revenge against her stinted love with this Lyrishione.

Above, in the Divine realms, Mya paced and worried about this sudden change in the formerly sweet and kind Kesara. She had grown into a canker on the side of Sententva, haunting him, destroying him. And yet with out her, he could not survive as long as was required for his destiny to be played out.

Mya sat and decided to wait and watch. See how Kesara's anger played out in full.

 


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