The way things were, they're not like today
So many things have changed, I think I've lost my way
Carrying on through the darkness, with a blindness in my mind
I've got to keep on looking, for what I need to find
You were never there when I needed someone
When I needed a hand, you turned away
I had no idea what to do
You wouldn't listen to what I'd say

Steel meets steel, with showering sparks,
and it is here, that the battle starts.
The duel begins, on ravaged land,
and here it will end, the final stand.
The darkened soul, draws first blood, his shimmering axe now red with the essence of his opponent.
But the light shall not be vanquished as of yet. Mustering his courage he fights with the bravery of a wolverine, and the tenacity of a lioness defending her young.
He lunges and his sword is swung powerfully in an arc, with force enough to part head from body.
The dark one will not allow himself to be defeated yet, and with a motion similar to the slithering of a snake he avoids what would be the mortal blow.
And the battle rages on.
For hours it rages on. Days, weeks, months, years, centuries, it raged.
They exchange wounds like friends would exchange stories from days of old.
And in the end, the light sees the weakened, defeated husk of the darkness.
And the good prepares for the final blow, the end of all, the end of the night.
He thrusts his sword and sees the crimson shimmer of blood.
And for the brief, moment, the light knows contentment.
And as he looks down at foe, he realizes that the blood is not that of the enemy,
But his own.
He stares for what seems to be an eternity.
At the dagger protruding from his chest, at his own sanguine fluid slowly streaking down his abdomen.
And he looks at the darkness.
He stares at him face to face.
Eye to eye.
And the darkness smiles.
He has won this day.
The warmth slowly fades from the warrior, as he is surrounded by an all encompassing cold.
And then nothing.
And darkness raises his hands in victory, shaking and flailing his arms wildly, staring at the corpse of his fallen opponent.
His battered and broken body on the verge of collapse, he looks up.
And his eyes open wide as the moon in the sky.

For good and evil have fought this day,
And the darkness has had its victory.
But you can never truly defeat the light,
And there will always be more to continue the fight.

And the sun rises…

*breaks champagne bottle over the new board, christening it*

The way things were, they're not like today
So many things have changed, I think I've lost my way
Carrying on through the darkness, with a blindness in my mind
I've got to keep on looking, for what I need to find

You were never there when I needed someone
When I needed a hand, you turned away
I had no idea what to do
You wouldn't listen to what I'd say

A poem, of sorts, off the cuff. I don't think it makes a great deal of sense, but emotion rarely doeas :)

You're too quiet

You never shut up

You're always in my face

I don't see you enough


What do you want from me

I don't want to give you that

You're so dull

Your weird. I don't like it


Why don't you talk to me

I don't want to listen to you

Why don't you hold me more

I don't like the way you feel


I'd give you everything

You don't want anything of mine

What do you want from me

I want you to go away

untitled

drip, drip, drip,
the blood of an
unborn child drips,
from the mother
who feels her own pain,
who will never see
the child with no name,
as the blood of pain
drip, drip, drips...

Wrote that 3 years ago, typed from memory.

~Cia

 have been philosophising greatly,
As champagne often makes me do,
Preparing to herald in the new year,
I'm determined to see it through.
But I got to thinking about Y2K,
And its effect on society,
The whole thing was an Unwashed plot,
It is so clear to me.
For the power stations would not work,,
Electricity would be past,
So, people could not get water,
And they'd be left aghast,
For they could not bathe at all,
Let alone use s.o.a.p.,
They would be forever the Unwashed,
From the paupers to the Pope.
Thus, membership would rocket,
Poor Rosh would be in a spin,
People wouyld flock to us in their billions,
Begging to be let in.
Alas, the bug was caught in time,
The billions will not come,
But what a way to unite the world -
Unwashed - that's everyone!

Cheers from the Land of Oz

"Flight of the Arrow"

The bow is drawn
Life is fragile
Shaped by the day and night
A journey along Dawn's Highway
The ancient one finds his home
The shaping has begun
The arrow flies
Thoughts are growing
The doors are opened
The spirit is awake
The mind is no longer alone
At the edge of consciousness
The arrow falls
The beginning of the end
The mind is clouded
It's back to the start
It's all over now
Rest well, James