The Wishful Whelp

December 8th, 2009

‘Tween the sullen shore and towering tree

of Feldwood Forest laid great Grimfell,

city of solitude. Unseen was the orb

that once warmed the water and woods,

for dusk had drawn, like a dampened cloak.


The wind was wild, blowing breathlessly

across Grimfell and the gaping gulf.

In the rural realms, a restless whelp

sat in silence, huddled by the hearth

while gazing forth into flickering flames.


All sleep soundly, except for her.

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The Pale Parchment

December 8th, 2009

Ash and amber will engulf the globe,

boiling the oceans and empires of old.

Mankind will be lost, relinquishing life

for goals greater then greed and lust.

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