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NuclearFudge's Clan

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Venerable Lair

on the

Reclaimer's Glacier

Clan Info

WISHLIST
PRIORITY WISHES

STILL COOL WISHES

I'm also a sucker for old dragons, and free stuff in general.

(Active as of 9/17/17)>>>If you want to be my friend, I'll be happy to accept, though I'd like to get to know you a little bit.

Love it or, love it not
When winter is here, it's hard to say
A flowered tree stands so tall
In the midst of the garden grey
The petals shine with a ghostly glow
But the roots have rotted away.

Around it runs a river of tears
trickling from soulful cries
The salty water appears like glass
In the light of the broken skies
The ripples reflect like ghastly veins.
The silver grass remains dry.

The curtain's drawn on the falling night
A cast of frost on the silvered moor
At the base of the tree, a knocking,
Coming from the frozen door
To open it would invite the cold
To petrify its core.

The knock returned, and shuddering,
A fading blossom had broken free
They leaned in closer that they might hear
Its fading, desperate plea
As it spoke, the petals rested
on the roots of the rotted tree.

“A tale of the wind, a tale of the cold
A tale of sweetened sorrow,
A tale of bitter contentedness
And of my wandering to and fro
The autumn now has come and gone
And no seed have I to sow”

So says the dying bloom
Of its sorrow and its need
The petals had turned into paling grey
And vanished among the reeds
The attendants turn their eyes above,
Then hastened to their creed.

“Another tale, long-lost and old,
Cut fresh from the stump of red
Planted in the ground at night
Relentlessly thumped in its bed
From within, it sprouts a garden of grey
Where the weary and shattered ones bled”

“Worthless, Oh! Worthless,
Worthless are these!
The attendants of the garden
And that frozen, putrid tree.
All burdens to bear, all chains to wear
And never taste what its like to be free!

Woe to they! Who cry in the night
Where no one hears their call
T’would be better, for thee to run along
Before your bitter truths shall fall

A gaping pit they've dug for themselves
To abide is for the brave
To all of those who enter, I fear
Have met their icy graves
Try not so hard to fill the gap,
thou hast fallen to far to save”

"We are all lost!
We are a tangled mess of misfits
That nest in this garden of grey.
An endless maze of confusion built
for those who have fallen astray.
Here, in darkness, the fugitives stay,
Here, in our garden of grey"