The Jester

We're getting a little closer to the beginning of the story. Hopefully, I'll get a stroke of inspiration soon. Enjoy

The Jester

Among the cheery crowd a’mingling,

A nimble figure with bells a’jingling

And clad in motley, a fool

Spun like thread on a spool.

He whistled and jeered

And at the guests sneered.

Flipped, hid, jumped and bowed,

And, from atop a table, he spoke aloud:

Call me Merry Mort,

Jester Royal of the Court.

T’is my duty to escort

And to amuse the King and Consort

I welcome each and all, dames and gents.

The year’s done, its time – spent.

So the feast enjoy, lords and ladies,

And your cups raise, bid farewell to Hades.

Right is the time, all your sorrows bury.

T’is the night when all make merry,

For Rhyme plays the flute

And Reason plays the lute.

Mulled wine and chilled ale,

To help you down both deer and quail,

Pigeon we have, and mutton too

For the thin and the gluttons in you.

Should you so please,

To subject you, allow me, to a tease.

A small and harmless charade,

Fitting for this gloomy masquerade.

Should you find yourself wearing a crown,

In a cup would your sorrows drown?

Should you find yourself donning a dress,

Would you dance to rule or to impress?

Should you find yourself wielding a sword,

With fire would you play, or be the lord?

Should you find yourself hiding behind a mask,

Would you dawdle or raise up to the task?

Pray tell, can you choose when to fall?

Would you fight it? Risk it? Lose it all?

While you eat and drink to your hearts’ content,

Think about that, ladies and gents.

Alas, depart I must, my time is done,

Have your fill and have your fun.

But be wary of this eerie candle glow,

For we’ll all dine with the shadows.

He disappeared in a cloud of smoke

Which made some cry and some choke.

Yet, save one, none have stayed, in the night’s late,

To ponder about their darkening fate.

The Dragon's Rose

The newest installment in the Knight's Tale.

The Dragon’s Rose

A warrior, foolhardy and brazen,

Upon hearing the king’s plea,

Without thought of praise or blazon,

Lunged to seize his destiny’s key,

For the opportunity he longed for arose.

His king’s respect he’d earn,

By retrieving the Dragon’s Rose,

That which is guarded by the Wyvern.

Under the light of the Wolf Moon,

In what is known as the Forest of Gloom,

He came to a pillar engraved with runes,

Pointing to the place where brave men met their doom.

As he trekked through the dark woods on his steed,

He came across the mouth of a bone filled cave.

Not giving it a second thought of the pints he’d bleed

Nor if this foolish undertaking would lead to his grave,

He ventured in… but not before he downed a small flask

Meant to ease the darkness’ heavy burden.

He’d need his sight, if he’d complete this task,

Even more, before the rise of dawn’s first curtain.

Sneaking down the long narrow hall,

He reached the entrance of a stench filled lair.

Upon entering, his cautious tread soon stalled,

For his gaze met blood caked claws and an icy stare.

Startled, he drew his sword and stepped back,

Knowing not what kind of monster he awoke.

The Dragonkin stood with mouth agape, as if ready to attack.

With a flap of its leathery wings, in a husky voice it spoke:

“Who is he that dares to enter my domain?

And is he ready to meet my price?”

“He’s but a humble soul with nothing to gain,

And, for your Rose, he’d make any sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice? Who’d still believe in such a notion?

Men of today hunger for vengeance and thirst for power,”

It snarled, staring back with eyes devoid of any emotion

That would make a lesser man cower.

“I do. I care not if you take me for a fool.”

“Pray tell, are you that big of a liar?”

“If I am, my tongue will rest in a blood pool.

Believe me not, put me through the trial of the dragon’s fire.”

Was he mad? To face the searing blaze?

He blocked talons with his own metal,

As a thought escaped his mind’s maze:

If not the whole Rose, just a few petals.

With steady foot and sword aloft, he launched.

Suddenly, the dragon’s spiked tail lashed

Around his sword arm; he couldn’t staunch

The heavy blood flow, spilling from the gash.

With a roar, the beast let out a scorching flame.

He could feel the stench of molten skin;

Pain shot through him as fire maimed

His face, turning it sooty as sin.

Pushing himself back to his feet, he lunged

For the Rose which the Wyvern held close to heart.

He threw his dagger and, in its stem, it plunged.

The beast drew back with a start

At the sight of the falling petals and the red droplets.

“Are you doing this for one of royal blood?

Did you ride out at the request of a harlot?

Or, perhaps, it was a farm girl yet to bud?”

“I’ve seen them not. And would it matter?

All I know, it is needed for a cure.”

“You spare no time on idle chatter…

Now I trust your reason’s pure”

Said the dragon with a hiss.

“It would seem I still have something to learn.

The price is met… also, take this

Alongside the petals that you’ve earned.

A Ruby, a bead of my blood, hardened and dried.

It might not sooth your aching burns,

But it’s a token to be worn with pride.

Now, I think someone is awaiting your return.”

With a bow, the warrior took his leave.

He had to make haste, to the King’s Keep,

But he had to tread on treacherous roads that weave

And go on the brink of mountain slopes too steep.

Three nights’ journey and he was back,

Passing through the castle gates.

He was met by a man dressed in black.

“Finally, you’ve arrived. Let’s hope it is not too late!”

The Battle

Hello, my dears, back with a new installment in the Knight's story. This one is, as you can tell, prior to the one written almost a year ago (cut me some slack, I need inspiration to do this).
I am still undecided about the title of this part of the story. Although the working title is "The Battle", it tells far more than just that. anyway, enjoy, and tell me what title to put.

The Battle/The News

‘My sweet, the time to talk is done!’
He said, as her warning he spurned.
‘There’s a battle to be won!
The horns have sounded, the scouts returned.

The horse's been saddled and the hour’s come.’
As he left, she sat distraught.
Was he really marching to the sound of drums,
Without sparing her a thought?
………
Arriving at the Valley of Myth,
He set his sights on the barren fields,
Soon to be filled with
Bloodied swords and shattered shields.

As dawn was breaking,
On the horizon arose a forest of pikes.
He was focused, yet his heart was aching;
It wasn’t in his sword, swing or strike.

The battle grew more gruesome, and
His blood started to flow.
The blows he could withstand,
But the little red crystal started to glow…

General Gerald the Gray
Raised his hand and gave the sign.
As he turned around and fled the fray,
His pawns carried out the king’s design.

A crossbow bolt struck the knight’s back…
His sword fell from his grip…
His vision faded to black…
Her name parted from his lips…
…………
The General’s army returned victorious.
With a sneer, his king’s throne he approached.
‘My king, this day is glorious.’
‘And our plot?’ ‘Carried out beyond reproach.’

‘Very good, very good indeed!’ said the king, pleased.
‘Let the princess know. However, handle it with care.
Her spirit won’t break with ease.
And I don’t want to flaw a jewel so rare.’
…………
However, little did they know
The jester was ‘round the corner, listening in.
To his mistress he ran. ‘Bring I news of woe!
Alas, not I see where to begin…

My princess, in the woods is your heart’s sweet.
Probably dead, most likely dying.
By your father’s schemes, tasted his sword defeat.
Your ears do trust, not do I jest, nor I am lying.’

‘Be it so?’ she asked with her mouth agape.
In her room, by the pale moonlight,
She donned a pitch black cape,
To be hidden in the dead of the night.
…………
Moments later, the dark steed
Darted through the castle gates
And passed the guards at speed,
Its black-clad rider uttering: ‘Let it be not too late!’

Welcome to Hell

This poem comes right after the last one I posted, sometime in November. I know. It has been a while, but I made some changes to the series :P. It finally has an epic thread. There are some continuity flaws now, but it will be made clear soon.
So, without much ado, I just want to say:

Welcome to Hell

The Angel of Death came
To the laying couple;
Through her tears untamed,
It closed in, unseen and subtle.

The dying words
Parted from his lips,
Though they fell unheard,
For Death came to reap.

His final breath drawing nigh…
His heart at its last pound
Instead of soaring towards heaven, high,
His soul was dragged deep beneath the ground.

Awakening on the hard cold rock,
The accursed ruby still strung around his neck,
He heard the thunderous voice mock:
“Wake up, or I’ll have the birds your flesh peck!”

Out of the darkness
Came an withering man,
Garbed in a haggard grey dress,
And a crooked staff in hand,

Who, pointing down a path, proceeded to say:
“You are cursed, yet you’ve not fallen to temptation…
You’re intriguing, but you've no time to rest, so be on your way.
You need to take up your station.”

Rotten corpses and festering boils
Were what he saw on the gloomy path,
Tortured souls forced to toil
Or face their master’s wrath.

As he came across a bridge, he saw a castle
And afore it, a sudden drop;
The moat, bloody with heads of dead vassals;
Rivers of fire and clouds of ash adorned the top;

An image of his impending doom.
The boards of the bridge were terribly cracked,
But, before despair would have him consumed,
His eyes fell upon a burnt wooden Plaque:

Be forewarned, for here resides
Belial, one of the four crown princes of Hell
So take care of how you stride,
It may lead you to your knell.

A knight’s death

Fresh out of the oven. :) Enjoy.

A knight’s death

Full moon – hidden
Behind the dark clouds;
The knight rests here, a place forbidden,
Wounded, under a blood red shroud…

Feeling the scorpion’s sting
And its venom coursing through his veins;
Hearing the flutter of an angel’s wings
As it flees from the darkness’ reign.
……………
Elsewhere, a flowing shade
Rushes through the trees,
The silhouette of the young maid
Looking for the one whose soul flees,

Her crystal crown
Askew on her head,
Her burgundy gown
Tearing as she sped.
……………
In the black pitch,
By the light of embers,
The venom making his muscles twitch,
He lays and remembers

Her sandy locks
Her grey blue eyes,
Ever slyer than a fox’,
(Oh, sight sent by the skies)

Her sweet smile,
Her perfect skin…
Although he’d known her for a while,
He’d never met the soul within.

A Fury by nature, a Nymph by name;
For her, he damned himself,
For her smile, he lit the flame.
And, yet, he long remained but a memory on a shelf.
……………
She hopes she makes it in time…
‘Damned be the treason and damn be the plot!
God, let me make it before the bell’s last chime!
A curse upon thee, father, and upon your whole lot!’
……………
‘I lay here, in my darkest hour…’
He manage to utter, drawing his last breath,
‘Let not my life be a blue flower
Withering as I’m nearing to my death…

Now, the fire’s ablaze,
And my kingdom’s turned to dust.
But I long for the days
My soul wasn’t covered with rust…

At last you came, my dear…
Speak not and let not a tear be shed,
Because there is nothing to fear…
In death, nothing is to dread.’
……………
‘And, yet, it feels like a nightmare…
I fear for your doom.’
A single crystal tear dropped by an ember’s flare.
‘May it light your tomb.’
……………
After the accursed deed,
He sealed his fate:
His heart to forever bleed,
As he’ll guard Hell’s Gate.

A thing of beauty

No, this is not by John Keats. You can find that here.



A thing of beauty

A thing of beauty
Could not easily pass…
Even an angel’s smile
It could surpass.

A frail rose, a white dove,
Eternal beauty…
Symbols of endless love…
Protecting them is your duty.

Red lightning, bright light,
Candles in the wind…
Signs of redemption
For all those who sinned.

Though threatened by visions of demons,
Shadowed by the cloak of death,
Thou shall never die…
Love has not given its last breath.

Remember…
At Dawn’s first chime,
Both Love and Hate were created.
Equal in strength, they endured throughout time.

God and Satan
Over a human’s heart fought,
To destroy one or another.
It was all for naught.

None prevailed,
For both still endure…
Now make your choice,
Your heart is still pure.

A thing of beauty,
One with an angel’s face,
Touched by
God’s overwhelming grace…

Is you!

Poem

I still haven't found a suitable name for this one. I just call it what it is, but accept alternate titles for it. Enjoy.



Poem

I've been blessed…
For such a sweet sight
Would make even
An angel’s delight.

An angel, however,
You are not…
For an angel
Is not easily forgot…

You are but
A rose of dust…
A wingless dove…
A soul of rust…

Yet, underneath,
Lies a light unseen
And a soul that’s not tarnished,
But of bright green…

The Garden

Back again with an oldie. Enjoy.



The Garden

My soul was a garden
You were my rose.
For some time,
You were my sanity dose.

Storms came
And passed on by,
Still we sought each other.
We had our fates to defy.

To long had it been
Since roses last bloomed.
The garden turned
Into a lonely tomb.

Roses once resided here
Now angels do.

A couple of short ones...

As I have said in my previous post, I found some of my older poems. Here are a couple of short ones. Dulce venin and Free Spirit. The first one is one from the very begining. The second one from sometime in 2006...

Dulce venin

Dulce venin,
Gand senin.
Far' de chin,
In moarte traim.

Zambet amar,
Om cu har
Da in dar.
In moarte traim.

Multa credinta,
Cat cu putinta,
Sa ai, fiinta.
La viata venim.


Free Spirit

I want to dwell in the highest mountain,
To bathe in the deepest sea,
To drink from the purest fountain...
Foremost, I want to be free...

Living in the forests dark,
Shedding all my fears,
Hearin angels hark,
Or weeping all my tears.

Questions

I remembered I had a couple of poems stashed on another site. This is one of them. As you see, I was in a classic bitter-sweet mood. Enjoy



Questions

Could Hell ever forgive a sinner?
Could Heaven ever condemn a saint?
Could love ever kill a soul?
Could hatred ever give birth to happiness?

Would you be unfaithful to your soul mate?
Would you help those unknown to you?
Would you put them  out of their misery?
Would God pull you out of the deepest fires?

Should you forgive everyone that wrongs you?
Should you forget every unhappy moment?
Should you cry over dead love?
Should you learn from your past?

Too many questions…
Questions that trouble the heart…
Questions that torment the mind…
Too many questions for a weary soul...

Focul marii

OK, here I am back with something new for a change. I have set my pen down for a bit to promote someone else :-D. Without further ado, I introduce to you Miss Andreea Nituica.

Focul marii

Bucati de soare aruncate-n mare
Palesc in apa arsa in culoare,
Cenusa lacrimilor izvorate ca-n mormant
Trupul este de pamant.

Raze crescute din mare,
Dar ceata le face amare.
Nu storci viata din pustiu,
Lacrimat esti cenusiu.

Lumina este mult prea cruda,
Printre lacrimi sa patrunda.

Enjoy.

PS: you can find her at this page: http://ada3007.hi5.com/ and on the messenger, with her name as the ID.

Thousand Candles...

I know, it has been a while since I posted anything that made any sense, but cut me some slack. I have been working on my thesis and trying to finish my undergrad studies.
Without further ado, here you go, a fresh poem.




Thousand candles...

Thousands of candles did burn
And here I am, still waiting your return.
Oh, I remember how you were:
A warrior, a gentleman, a poet, a dreamer…
And that which you used to love:
Beauty, the red rose and a little white dove.
Treachery made you see all this in flames…
Mistrust and doubt should be blamed.
Storms may come, but they’ll pass by,
You must, for my sake, your fate defy…
Over were all the battles,
Yet you can’t shake the sound of bone rattles.
Lay your soul to rest, my king,
And watch what beauties peace may bring…

Turn to God

Think it might be a good time to post another poem.

Turn to God

Satan mocks: “God must fall.”
God whispers: “Stand just tall.”
Devils shout: “We must rule.”
Angels sigh: “Don’t be fools.”

Human with heart sincere
Clouds invade your mind.
As the Judgment draws near,
There are answers we must find.

Gone are the days
Of ancient past.
But, alas,
Eden was not ment to last…

All you see
Is suffering and pain,
Death and famine,
Battles without gain…

Now lay down your sword,
In front of God kneel.
You’d be amazed how many
A prayer would heal.

In the end,
I wish you peace,
And remember,
Wars do cease...

In dust...

My longest poem yet. This is one of the older poems, fresh out of the archives. Enjoy :-)



In dust...

In dust,
I once lay torn.
Like a phoenix,
From the ashes I’m reborn…

Vision of royalty,
Of a damned queen,
All clad in black garments
Unlike any I’ve ever seen.

Her guise
Angels could ensnare,
Her stride,
As though walking on air.

She, from thousands of men,
Selected just one knight,
To be made keeper
At the gates of the night.

That knight
Was I.
A simple gaze
And I could not die.

A cold touch,
A poisonous kiss,
A moment of pain,
Of pure bliss…

Soft whispers
Of an unknown spell,
Release old demons
From their bonds in hell.

Eons have passed
Since that day,
A thousand years more
Still to pay.

Her heart, just as mine,
Slowly, turned rusty and old.
Our souls
Were shattered and cold.

Until that faithful day,
When the one with an angel’s face
Granted me mercy
And took me into her grace.

She might know,
Or still be unaware…
Noble such a heart
Has long since become rare.

A human by sight,
A goddess by name.
Victory returned my soul
A blazing flame.

When the Dark Queen
Got word of me not at her side,
She damned me to hell.
Out of her grace, I soon died.

…

Innocent child,
Righteous empress,
Fierce warrior,
Blessed goddess,

I did not know
My angel could be.
A warm touch
And I was once again free.

Death dealt
Scores of scars,
Now healed
By Heaven’s golden stars.

In dust,
I once lay torn.
Like a phoenix,
From the ashes I’m reborn.

Rusted blade...

Back again, with a new one. Oh, and one more thing before I sign off. More or less all the pictures are from DeviantART.



Rusted blade...

Rusted blade
And bloody armor,
My only friends
Under an old oak’s shade…

Full moon rise…
Come nightmares,
Come dreams…
As all sound dies,

Clouds gather on the sky…
The fire dies out,
Darkness embraces all…
Morpheus draws nigh…

Sights of corpses rotten,
Of battles fought
Throughout time,
Have not been forgotten…

Crows and ravens
Circle ‘bove me…
As Baal approaches
There’re no havens…

Blessed be the light,
That shines in darkness…
Blessed be the angel,
That takes away my fright…

The Knight (II)

I have lost track of the order in which they were written. Another one from the dust bin. Although, I think that there are some that were lost in the move.



The Knight (II)

All feelings have been forgotten,
All, but fear and pain.
With those that lost their tears,
He entered a battle without gain.

A heart, impenetrable fortress,
This battle he had to win,
But fear of love
Killed all within.

Once loved,
Now with the fallen he's sleeping,
But he's learned
That love is not worth weeping.

Lost was the battle
And so was his heart.
Lost will be the battles
In which he'll take part.

He's now forever lost.
Once an angel's knight,
Now the gatekeeper
At the entrance of night.

Of Dreams and Roses

Just another one recovered from the dust bin. It was meant for someone. But let's just say fate plays tricks even on those who control it.





Of dreams and roses

A peaceful night
Of clear sky and full moon…
Both gods and mortals
Shall dream soon…

And, so, we dream
Visions both lurid and sweet…
For, every night, we are
Trapped at Morpheus’ feet…

Visions of passion and lust…
Of a Ruby Rose…
Of a dark goddess
In whose hand Destiny froze…

Visions of purity and light…
Of a Crystal Rose…
Of a fair angel
At whose caress Destiny flows…

Although roses may wither,
The beauty of an angel fades not,
For an angel such as you
Is not easily forgot…

And, in the end,
Our Destiny lies, still,
At the tip
Of the Poet’s quill…

The Traveller

The beginning of the story. Enjoy.




The Traveller

Weary traveller,
Take of your cloak,
There’s no hiding
When there’s fog or smoke.

In hand, an ale,
To put some red in your face’s pale,
To take the chill from your ghostly heart,
Before you once more depart.

Lay your bones to rest
While the host will do his best.
For, at this inn,
Story telling will soon begin.

Stories of darkness and light,
Stories both sinister and bright,
Stories of love and hate,
Of a knight’s chosen fate…

Crows and ravens

I just figured something out. My poems tend to have a dual nature, similar to my own. So, if there is any chance to understanding me, first try and understand them. Enjoy.



Crows and ravens...

Crows and ravens
Out of the sky are falling,
Eager to heed
Their master’s calling.

Swans and doves,
Both eternal and white,
Must shield
The lovers’ hearts tonight…

Snakes twine and hiss,
Their venom taints all streams…
Clear drops are no longer enough
For one’s potion of dreams…

Flickers of thought,
Drops of perfume,
Vision of love,
Roses in bloom…

Scorching sea,
Beads of sweat,
Signs of strife,
Ancient threat…

Mortal souls
Have lost their power…
Olden spirits
Feast and devour…

Hell

I think it's about time for another one. This would be one of the dark(er) poems.




Hell

Skies of fire,
Rain of blood and ash…
Those damned shed
Tears that slash.

Eons have passed…
At the gates of Hell
A cursed keeper
Has to dwell…

Battered and scarred,
Deformed by pain,
He cannot escape
Belzebuth’s reign…

Ages clear,
Now, a poisoned heart,
He was sent
To set saints and sinners apart…

To test and trial
All those on earth…
For many are doomed
Since their very birth.