L O R W O L F
Short Rhyme. Written on impulse for wild lorwolves of various users on Discord.
Consists of: Poem, Rhyme.
Topic: Wolf concept.
Quote:
True treasure.
Red lacquer and gilded jade
brings thousand lanterns, set ablaze.
But a sheltered ponds among rivers
still winds along autumn zither.
For summer fire blinks away
when time's squandered day by day.
Quote:
Given freely.
Bleeding with a sky-stained blue,
windblown gold forms life anew.
Many have been raised to bear
down on water they still snare.
Brought to knees, the land now burns
As what is given must return.
Quote:
Courage in truth
Quiet is the sprouting foe,
who dares defy the grasping snow,
For silver mist devours the hand,
that dares to feed the death of lands.
But ever burns the voice within,
and lends its strength to defy their kin.
Quote:
Pledged purity.
Silken fairies of fleeting growth,
offered wings in winter oaths.
Thus they spared the flower's sweet
'till the flute twists from wind's deceit.
For spring is but a blink at dawn
and hearts don't follow life as drawn.
Quote:
Passing Nostalgia.
A silent specters's mumble
glints like stolen gold might tumble
over sunstained memories
of hidden roads behind the trees.
Where broken stones made a history
tracing dappled paint. A victory
glimpsed in the mighty hands
of time which leaves the long lost lands.
Quote:
Brush born tidings.
Reflection of palms in the sky
scattered when a wave passes by.
Clouds weave under roots and bay
chasing fish and fowl in play.
For where water reached onto land,
castles will be build of sand
to follow where the wind has been
an echo of the life within.
Quote:
Good Night
Wings scatter evening showers,
flitting through the fading hours.
Blink goes the curtain. Tucked in
to wipe away where light has been.
As all birds of night must roost:
Standing in their still salute
Once more a day dwindles down,
robbing stations of their sound.
Quote:
Halowed ideals:
A hero's power reflects in rain:
Cuts evening hours till none remain.
Simple life springs from love, so sure,
ease it brings, but not a cure.
As misted minds will cloud the way,
wretched wants find roads astray.
But all must cross the darkened night
if not to lose the breath of light.
Quote:
All strangers are forgotten friends.
Welcome, my guest, of long lost time,
into our nest, to wine and dine.
Worn, you must be, for travel took
you past the seas and sun-downed brooks.
Eat. Take a seat of honor here:
Speak of your feats, in worlds we fear.
Celebrate all ends we must,
for each tale shall return to dust.
Quote:
Despair is best served cold.
Made to embrace wicked chances,
ever chasing gambled glances,
I follow gleams of past delight
into a dream of stunted flight.
For all the bold does is bewitch
my ear. Unfolds red to feed sick
minds through winged rides. Spurs looping slides
forth to collide with swollen strife.
I've sown sorrow, reaped claws traced deep
through tomorrow's time. Now I weep,
deprived of rest. But fear blooms still
in empty chests when passion chills.
For our sweet haze drives distraction,
kills lasting ways of satisfaction.
L O R W O L F
Short Rhyme. Written on impulse for wild lorwolves of various users on Discord.
Consists of: Poem, Rhyme.
Topic: Wolf concept.
Quote:
True treasure.
Red lacquer and gilded jade
brings thousand lanterns, set ablaze.
But a sheltered ponds among rivers
still winds along autumn zither.
For summer fire blinks away
when time's squandered day by day.
Quote:
Given freely.
Bleeding with a sky-stained blue,
windblown gold forms life anew.
Many have been raised to bear
down on water they still snare.
Brought to knees, the land now burns
As what is given must return.
Quote:
Courage in truth
Quiet is the sprouting foe,
who dares defy the grasping snow,
For silver mist devours the hand,
that dares to feed the death of lands.
But ever burns the voice within,
and lends its strength to defy their kin.
Quote:
Pledged purity.
Silken fairies of fleeting growth,
offered wings in winter oaths.
Thus they spared the flower's sweet
'till the flute twists from wind's deceit.
For spring is but a blink at dawn
and hearts don't follow life as drawn.
Quote:
Passing Nostalgia.
A silent specters's mumble
glints like stolen gold might tumble
over sunstained memories
of hidden roads behind the trees.
Where broken stones made a history
tracing dappled paint. A victory
glimpsed in the mighty hands
of time which leaves the long lost lands.
Quote:
Brush born tidings.
Reflection of palms in the sky
scattered when a wave passes by.
Clouds weave under roots and bay
chasing fish and fowl in play.
For where water reached onto land,
castles will be build of sand
to follow where the wind has been
an echo of the life within.
Quote:
Good Night
Wings scatter evening showers,
flitting through the fading hours.
Blink goes the curtain. Tucked in
to wipe away where light has been.
As all birds of night must roost:
Standing in their still salute
Once more a day dwindles down,
robbing stations of their sound.
Quote:
Halowed ideals:
A hero's power reflects in rain:
Cuts evening hours till none remain.
Simple life springs from love, so sure,
ease it brings, but not a cure.
As misted minds will cloud the way,
wretched wants find roads astray.
But all must cross the darkened night
if not to lose the breath of light.
Quote:
All strangers are forgotten friends.
Welcome, my guest, of long lost time,
into our nest, to wine and dine.
Worn, you must be, for travel took
you past the seas and sun-downed brooks.
Eat. Take a seat of honor here:
Speak of your feats, in worlds we fear.
Celebrate all ends we must,
for each tale shall return to dust.
Quote:
Despair is best served cold.
Made to embrace wicked chances,
ever chasing gambled glances,
I follow gleams of past delight
into a dream of stunted flight.
For all the bold does is bewitch
my ear. Unfolds red to feed sick
minds through winged rides. Spurs looping slides
forth to collide with swollen strife.
I've sown sorrow, reaped claws traced deep
through tomorrow's time. Now I weep,
deprived of rest. But fear blooms still
in empty chests when passion chills.
For our sweet haze drives distraction,
kills lasting ways of satisfaction.
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Some day, there will be art here.
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[center][font=cambria][size=7][size=4]F O R U M[/size][/size][/font][/center]
[center][font=cambria][size=4]Description of a hobby. I quite like it and have no proper place to keep it, so.
Consists of: Snippet, Drabble.
Topic: Description of a hobby or activity. [/size][/font][/center]
[quote name="Islet" date="2023-09-23 02:09:26" ]
[font=Courier New]Let me write an ode to baking, something I like to do in my spare time.
Baking is like bringing a slice of sunlight into the depth of winter, like the kiss of nutmeg and clove crunching like hot ice under bright lemon slices. It is the good parts of childhood scooped into today. Put a pie in the oven, and you set the smell of flaky dough free to linger in the forgotten corners. To say 'I was here', without speaking.
What strikes me about it, is that there is no true perfection, which means there is no failure, no true loss, so all good effort feels like a victory to even the most critical of minds. In a way, you can fight the battle beforehand: By seeking to know yourself or the enemy and beating all that is wrong with the world into the creamy batter, such that you can sit in stillness after, to watch it all smooth out and swell in the oven like a promise kept and come true.
In this way, it holds the qualities of a good companion, as sharing time with it may calm your heart enough to turn your mind to reflection. It may challenge your skills and bring joy to all around you. The wait as muffins bloom out of its tray is one of excited anticipation and worry, like cheering your loved ones on for a marathon, supporting them along the way and finally waving your banners at the finish line as they cross.
The best thing however, is how it is an adventure. A small one, but nevertheless it remains one that is even better when shared with friends. The making of something sweet, but also the indulgence afterwards: There is something deeply satisfying about creating something with love and providing that as a treat for yourself and others.
All in all, Baking is a gift that keeps giving.
[/quote]
F O R U M
Description of a hobby. I quite like it and have no proper place to keep it, so.
Consists of: Snippet, Drabble.
Topic: Description of a hobby or activity.
Islet wrote on 2023-09-23 02:09:26:
Let me write an ode to baking, something I like to do in my spare time.
Baking is like bringing a slice of sunlight into the depth of winter, like the kiss of nutmeg and clove crunching like hot ice under bright lemon slices. It is the good parts of childhood scooped into today. Put a pie in the oven, and you set the smell of flaky dough free to linger in the forgotten corners. To say 'I was here', without speaking.
What strikes me about it, is that there is no true perfection, which means there is no failure, no true loss, so all good effort feels like a victory to even the most critical of minds. In a way, you can fight the battle beforehand: By seeking to know yourself or the enemy and beating all that is wrong with the world into the creamy batter, such that you can sit in stillness after, to watch it all smooth out and swell in the oven like a promise kept and come true.
In this way, it holds the qualities of a good companion, as sharing time with it may calm your heart enough to turn your mind to reflection. It may challenge your skills and bring joy to all around you. The wait as muffins bloom out of its tray is one of excited anticipation and worry, like cheering your loved ones on for a marathon, supporting them along the way and finally waving your banners at the finish line as they cross.
The best thing however, is how it is an adventure. A small one, but nevertheless it remains one that is even better when shared with friends. The making of something sweet, but also the indulgence afterwards: There is something deeply satisfying about creating something with love and providing that as a treat for yourself and others.
All in all, Baking is a gift that keeps giving.
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Some day, there will be art here.
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M I S C E L L A N E O U S
Short Rhyme. Assorted themes, no receiver. Written on Discord.
Consists of: Poem, Rhyme.
Topic: Various.
Quote:
A sorrow has scored deep into
what will or has oft made my mood:
It lays broken like lights of days
fade unspoken to lose its way.
Snow sits heavy on roofs to block
the sound, steady tap of clocks.
Still, fire crawls when it should leap
against these walls. My canvas speaks
yet cannot tell, for it's turned
the wrong way around.
Short Rhyme. Assorted themes, no receiver. Written on the Flight Rising Forum
town hall topic.
Consists of: Poem, Rhyme.
Topic: Various.
Quote:
Hello!
Hope you have a lovely year,
with great company and cheer.
Wish for dragons to be fed,
receive warm pats on the head,
with rich style, stories and lair,
and all the love you can spare.
Above these cool in-game claims,
I want you to have the same
and more so: Please be well,
amazing, delightful, swell,
and have room to think, try, grow,
fail, change, learn and chase your dreams.
Farewell, again, until then:
Take care of your year my friend.
M I S C E L L A N E O U S
Short Rhyme. Assorted themes, no receiver. Written on Discord.
Consists of: Poem, Rhyme.
Topic: Various.
Quote:
A sorrow has scored deep into
what will or has oft made my mood:
It lays broken like lights of days
fade unspoken to lose its way.
Snow sits heavy on roofs to block
the sound, steady tap of clocks.
Still, fire crawls when it should leap
against these walls. My canvas speaks
yet cannot tell, for it's turned
the wrong way around.
Short Rhyme. Assorted themes, no receiver. Written on the Flight Rising Forum
town hall topic.
Consists of: Poem, Rhyme.
Topic: Various.
Quote:
Hello!
Hope you have a lovely year,
with great company and cheer.
Wish for dragons to be fed,
receive warm pats on the head,
with rich style, stories and lair,
and all the love you can spare.
Above these cool in-game claims,
I want you to have the same
and more so: Please be well,
amazing, delightful, swell,
and have room to think, try, grow,
fail, change, learn and chase your dreams.
Farewell, again, until then:
Take care of your year my friend.
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Some day, there will be art here.
|
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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[center][font=cambria][size=7][size=5]S A L E S[/size][/size][/font][/center]
[center][font=cambria][size=4]Poem for a dragon that I am selling. Written for [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/91702314]#91702314[/url].
Consists of: Short poetry, concepts, freeform.
Topic: Poetry[/size][/font][/center]
[quote][center][font=High Tower Text][size=4]To good people.
Fire in the skies
brings the doubts of night.
It´s time for goodbyes
as our sails takes flight.
Anew, persevere.
Fast, against the tide
of time, brave your fear.
Take each storm in stride.
Dawn is ever near.
[/center][/quote]
S A L E S
Poem for a dragon that I am selling. Written for #91702314.
Consists of: Short poetry, concepts, freeform.
Topic: Poetry
Quote:
To good people.
Fire in the skies
brings the doubts of night.
It´s time for goodbyes
as our sails takes flight.
Anew, persevere.
Fast, against the tide
of time, brave your fear.
Take each storm in stride.
Dawn is ever near.
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Some day, there will be art here.
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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[center][font=cambria][size=7][size=5]C R I M[/size][/size][/font][/center]
[center][font=cambria][size=4]Snippet written on the thread: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/frd/3308532/19#post_56016602]'your new lair generator'[/url] in response to [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/frd/3308532/18#post_56012388]888's post[/url].
Consists of: Snippet, xianxia.
Topic: Sacrifice.[/size][/font][/center]
[quote][font=Autumn][size=4]Despite your best efforts, your apprentice is lagging behind. He's facing the fires, which caress the lamellar and imparts its heat in cruel whispers. No, to touch it is to ruin oneself. "Follow, fool!"
You pull him back, stepping further into the vault. Perhaps it would have been prudent to destroy these after all, but to do so now would tempt too many.
Besides, what would it make of you, to walk a thousand miles, yet having to trace back your steps before the summit. You are not ignorant.
Soon, the air lays heavy on your breath, chill creeping past the arrays and intricate spellwork. To the right, a cavern holds what you desire, to step inside is to forfeit your life, yet you must convince the younger child to cross the threshold. You hand him the flask, a fancy trinket, with a tea of common ivy inside. It'll thin the mucus in airways enough to obscure the coughs.
What's more, its taste will obscure that of the poppy.
He drinks with a frown. You down the other flask, marked with a slip of paper. No doubt, there is something familiar to his brew. Yet there is no recognition as he bows, moves the watering can to his other hand, expectant. A dismissive wave sends him inside. Behind the white stone your hand finds a switch.
Soundless, the barrier jumps up, shielding you from the faint sounds of shattering porcelain and bone. You make sure to watch as the chrysanthemums are watered and fed. Before the moon wanes it will be ready to harvest. Just one pilI will propel you through a bottleneck, will cut you loose from the reincarnation cycle, will bar you from immortality.
Done feeding, the plant buries its prey.
Good.
Your smile is sour.
With great care, you make your way back, locking each trap behind you, ignoring the glint of gold. Near the end, the cost has you heaving. Some days you miss your master like you would yearn for your heart if it were to be carved out.
Yet you hold onto hope. The war has yet to be lost and despite weakness there is one resource your clan does not lack.
People.
You'll have to use it wisely to bring victory to all.
[/size][/font][/quote]
[center][font=cambria][size=4]Short poem written on the thread: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/frd/3308532]'your new lair generator'[/url] in [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/frd/3308532/21#post_56024042]this post[/url].
Consists of: Short poem, freeform.
Topic: Sacrifice.[/size][/font][/center]
[quote][center][font=Sylfaen][size=4]
Brewing
Starglow wanes and speaks of strife.
A hand of darkness felled our skies.
Ward your windows and your doors
with nails of salt and fire spores.
Take your blood to wake the land.
Turn your brood back into sand.
[/size][/font][/center][/quote]
C R I M
Quote:
Despite your best efforts, your apprentice is lagging behind. He's facing the fires, which caress the lamellar and imparts its heat in cruel whispers. No, to touch it is to ruin oneself. "Follow, fool!"
You pull him back, stepping further into the vault. Perhaps it would have been prudent to destroy these after all, but to do so now would tempt too many.
Besides, what would it make of you, to walk a thousand miles, yet having to trace back your steps before the summit. You are not ignorant.
Soon, the air lays heavy on your breath, chill creeping past the arrays and intricate spellwork. To the right, a cavern holds what you desire, to step inside is to forfeit your life, yet you must convince the younger child to cross the threshold. You hand him the flask, a fancy trinket, with a tea of common ivy inside. It'll thin the mucus in airways enough to obscure the coughs.
What's more, its taste will obscure that of the poppy.
He drinks with a frown. You down the other flask, marked with a slip of paper. No doubt, there is something familiar to his brew. Yet there is no recognition as he bows, moves the watering can to his other hand, expectant. A dismissive wave sends him inside. Behind the white stone your hand finds a switch.
Soundless, the barrier jumps up, shielding you from the faint sounds of shattering porcelain and bone. You make sure to watch as the chrysanthemums are watered and fed. Before the moon wanes it will be ready to harvest. Just one pilI will propel you through a bottleneck, will cut you loose from the reincarnation cycle, will bar you from immortality.
Done feeding, the plant buries its prey.
Good.
Your smile is sour.
With great care, you make your way back, locking each trap behind you, ignoring the glint of gold. Near the end, the cost has you heaving. Some days you miss your master like you would yearn for your heart if it were to be carved out.
Yet you hold onto hope. The war has yet to be lost and despite weakness there is one resource your clan does not lack.
People.
You'll have to use it wisely to bring victory to all.
Quote:
Brewing
Starglow wanes and speaks of strife.
A hand of darkness felled our skies.
Ward your windows and your doors
with nails of salt and fire spores.
Take your blood to wake the land.
Turn your brood back into sand.
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Some day, there will be art here.
|
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
|
[center][font=cambria][size=7][size=5]C A T T I N G T O N[/size][/size][/font][/center]
[center][font=cambria][size=4]Poem written on the free g1 thread: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/drs/3299092/17#post_56140888]60-egg hatch daily[/url].
Written for [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/92809091]one of cattington's notn hatches[/url].
Consists of: Short poetry, concepts, freeform.
Topic: Poetry[/size][/font][/center]
[quote][center][font=High Tower Text][size=4]Fondness
Do you remember,
your favorite sweater;
sweet ocean blue sand,
sticky dough on your hands.
Reach beyond those shores
and open sunbaked doors
to childhood mornings:
right when time stopped turning.
Breathe and taste the air
of memories you wear.
[/center][/quote]
C A T T I N G T O N
Quote:
Fondness
Do you remember,
your favorite sweater;
sweet ocean blue sand,
sticky dough on your hands.
Reach beyond those shores
and open sunbaked doors
to childhood mornings:
right when time stopped turning.
Breathe and taste the air
of memories you wear.
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|
Some day, there will be art here.
|
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
|
Reserved so this topic does not get bumped to the top each time I post. I just realized that I'd like it to stay in the dark pits of old content, only to be read by the occasional curious soul who wanders into the dusty corners of the library and explores the hidden staircase in the back. My reason is that this is supposed to be an archive in my lore. Sorry for the spam.
Reserved so this topic does not get bumped to the top each time I post. I just realized that I'd like it to stay in the dark pits of old content, only to be read by the occasional curious soul who wanders into the dusty corners of the library and explores the hidden staircase in the back. My reason is that this is supposed to be an archive in my lore. Sorry for the spam.
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Some day, there will be art here.
|
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Reserved so this topic does not get bumped to the top each time I post. I just realized that I'd like it to stay in the dark pits of old content, only to be read by the occasional curious soul who wanders into the dusty corners of the library and explores the hidden staircase in the back. My reason is that this is supposed to be an archive in my lore. Sorry for the spam.
Reserved so this topic does not get bumped to the top each time I post. I just realized that I'd like it to stay in the dark pits of old content, only to be read by the occasional curious soul who wanders into the dusty corners of the library and explores the hidden staircase in the back. My reason is that this is supposed to be an archive in my lore. Sorry for the spam.
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|
Some day, there will be art here.
|
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
|
Reserved so this topic does not get bumped to the top each time I post. I just realized that I'd like it to stay in the dark pits of old content, only to be read by the occasional curious soul who wanders into the dusty corners of the library and explores the hidden staircase in the back. My reason is that this is supposed to be an archive in my lore. Sorry for the spam.
Reserved so this topic does not get bumped to the top each time I post. I just realized that I'd like it to stay in the dark pits of old content, only to be read by the occasional curious soul who wanders into the dusty corners of the library and explores the hidden staircase in the back. My reason is that this is supposed to be an archive in my lore. Sorry for the spam.
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Some day, there will be art here.
|
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Reserved so this topic does not get bumped to the top each time I post. I just realized that I'd like it to stay in the dark pits of old content, only to be read by the occasional curious soul who wanders into the dusty corners of the library and explores the hidden staircase in the back. My reason is that this is supposed to be an archive in my lore. Sorry for the spam.
Reserved so this topic does not get bumped to the top each time I post. I just realized that I'd like it to stay in the dark pits of old content, only to be read by the occasional curious soul who wanders into the dusty corners of the library and explores the hidden staircase in the back. My reason is that this is supposed to be an archive in my lore. Sorry for the spam.
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Some day, there will be art here.
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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