The Search
The heart long desires comforts touch
It guides thy actions, master of compassion
Hence yearnings guide thee overmuch
In absence of thy true loves satisfaction.
But what love be thine truly then?
Or what words so supple then defined this thing?
For it evades thine mortal ken
With as much substance as a departing dream.
Yet first gaze upon the bloom
Reveals thine folly and then thy mortal flaws.
Love sought then is love found too soon,
For from thy seeking is the evasions cause.
Pain is fleeting, truth comes to light;
Heart intemperate and thus deceiving tool.
For loves illusion then takes flight,
And thusly yo
Cometh he, sudden as thy heart doth beat
Forthwith, does thine love-made muscle bleat
With hair the shade of fading embers
His image as dream while mind doth sleep.
Oh intemperate eyes who can ne'er mark their shine
From the wine-dark sea, the slumb'ring forests green
And then as silver as the stars and their kine
Not a man is this, these eyes make and mean.
Nor such a man hath marked in hist'ries song,
Yet how didst this one slip silent through the cracks?
A visage of such like, Forgotten? Wrong.
The unforgetting soul his parallax.
Ah yes, this face as timeless as love pure!
He is ageless, as yearless as the price.
Those
From earth we come and to earth do we return
Our blood now laid out here, upon this ground.
Who knows in life what passions with which we burned,
Not the barren landscape where we are found.
We who speak are silent dead, the nameless many;
This is the legacy only we can impart.
Our names are endless, as is our suff'rd ending
A timeless death, brought on us by a timeless art.
We nameless, faceless, unknowable ghosts
Whose lifetime struggles spare you our own pain,
Gladly pay the price that's asked of us
Though this, our end, our one and only gain.
Our flesh, our bones lay with friend and foe,
In death, the contention in our
The Glass Tapestry - Chapt 1.1 by Chained-Fei, literature
Literature
The Glass Tapestry - Chapt 1.1
Chapter The First:
Prelude to Wings
The sun sifted through the autumn-time red's and gold's as the wind teased and tugged at the branches of the forest. Mountains loomed in the distance, already capped with white. The sound of rustling through the leaves ushered thoughts of a lush green sea through the mind of a small boy child, aged no more than nine.
His russet hair shifted and fluttered in the breeze, his head resting against the trunk of one of the oaks. His ocean blue eyes were sullen and dreamy as he sat amidst falling leaves. His face was devoid of smile, as he rested against the old tree, his features fixed between sleepy and
Fragile Clay
A Poem-by Marcus Phillips
Rise, awaken from bitter ashes,
Thrust upon this mortal coil,
Up in heaven, Icarus crashes,
Into cruel besotten soil.
Formless mass... Eternal still...
Wating for a dreamer's touch.
Spoiled soul by Pandora's ill,
Wishing that it were not such.
Path is hammered, tooth and nail,
Might we yet change the course ordained?
Shape takes form, of beauty pale,
A fae's cruel touch, in matter's plain.
Form is tainted, folded wrong,
Changing shape from Angel's tears.
Voice confused at misplaced song,
Love misplaced, confirming fears.
Strove towards light, and found an errant,
Showed the road, yet i
Shades of Gray
A poem by Shimitsu Kaoru (Marcus Phillips)
Mine Vision bestowed with black and white,
Mine Heart indulged in thus cruel world's stage.
Eyes unseeing judge twixt wrong and right,
Soul thus imbued polarities rage.
Thine eyes do see thus how twisted formed
That 'Truth' wherein no exception hides,
Share not the furies mankind has worn....
See truth with thine blessed inward eyes.
This, thy stage, unjustly given life
Thy soul weighed with rules and thus condemned.
Taught proudly yin and yang's bitter strife...
Never name thy passion thus a friend.
A world whence monotony didst thrive
Did bare you proudly up with open
Fragile Clay
A Poem-by Marcus Phillips
Rise, awaken from bitter ashes,
Thrust upon this mortal coil,
Up in heaven, Icarus crashes,
Into cruel besotten soil.
Formless mass... Eternal still...
Wating for a dreamer's touch.
Spoiled soul by Pandora's ill,
Wishing that it were not such.
Path is hammered, tooth and nail,
Might we yet change the course ordained?
Shape takes form, of beauty pale,
A fae's cruel touch, in matter's plain.
Form is tainted, folded wrong,
Changing shape from Angel's tears.
Voice confused at misplaced song,
Love misplaced, confirming fears.
Strove towards light, and found an errant,
Showed the road, yet i
The Glass Tapestry - Chapt 1.1 by Chained-Fei, literature
Literature
The Glass Tapestry - Chapt 1.1
Chapter The First:
Prelude to Wings
The sun sifted through the autumn-time red's and gold's as the wind teased and tugged at the branches of the forest. Mountains loomed in the distance, already capped with white. The sound of rustling through the leaves ushered thoughts of a lush green sea through the mind of a small boy child, aged no more than nine.
His russet hair shifted and fluttered in the breeze, his head resting against the trunk of one of the oaks. His ocean blue eyes were sullen and dreamy as he sat amidst falling leaves. His face was devoid of smile, as he rested against the old tree, his features fixed between sleepy and
From earth we come and to earth do we return
Our blood now laid out here, upon this ground.
Who knows in life what passions with which we burned,
Not the barren landscape where we are found.
We who speak are silent dead, the nameless many;
This is the legacy only we can impart.
Our names are endless, as is our suff'rd ending
A timeless death, brought on us by a timeless art.
We nameless, faceless, unknowable ghosts
Whose lifetime struggles spare you our own pain,
Gladly pay the price that's asked of us
Though this, our end, our one and only gain.
Our flesh, our bones lay with friend and foe,
In death, the contention in our
Cometh he, sudden as thy heart doth beat
Forthwith, does thine love-made muscle bleat
With hair the shade of fading embers
His image as dream while mind doth sleep.
Oh intemperate eyes who can ne'er mark their shine
From the wine-dark sea, the slumb'ring forests green
And then as silver as the stars and their kine
Not a man is this, these eyes make and mean.
Nor such a man hath marked in hist'ries song,
Yet how didst this one slip silent through the cracks?
A visage of such like, Forgotten? Wrong.
The unforgetting soul his parallax.
Ah yes, this face as timeless as love pure!
He is ageless, as yearless as the price.
Those
The Search
The heart long desires comforts touch
It guides thy actions, master of compassion
Hence yearnings guide thee overmuch
In absence of thy true loves satisfaction.
But what love be thine truly then?
Or what words so supple then defined this thing?
For it evades thine mortal ken
With as much substance as a departing dream.
Yet first gaze upon the bloom
Reveals thine folly and then thy mortal flaws.
Love sought then is love found too soon,
For from thy seeking is the evasions cause.
Pain is fleeting, truth comes to light;
Heart intemperate and thus deceiving tool.
For loves illusion then takes flight,
And thusly yo
Current Residence: The World 2525 Favourite genre of music: eclectic Operating System: Windows: Runs Good Edition MP3 player of choice: I-Pod, Naturally Shell of choice: Koopa Trooper Skin of choice: the one on me Favourite cartoon character: The Self that is I Personal Quote: "There's always another way."