Post by Kolava on Dec 14, 2003 20:51:46 GMT -5
This poem is a bit looser then the last, but it still rhymes, and within its long flowing sentences there is still a rhythm to be found. It's a story told though poetry, something I thought I would try since we don't seem to have it to often.
[glow=blue,2,400]Long ago in a distant place
There lived a very ancient race
though age does little to explain
The ruin in which they have been lain
To truely understand their plight
One must sink deeply into the night
and lose oneself into the dark
from which all journeys do embark
Deep in the annals of time exists
A maddening rumor that always persists
that this race of Ancients had finally shattered
the walls that hid what truely mattered
and freed thier souls from worldy toil
leaving thier bodies to fall to the soil
This rumor is false, a work of mere fiction
but it was inspired by a true diction
of a race that existed a long time ago
of which today there is nothing to show
They knew the world as harsh and cruel
and endeavoured to not be a cosmic tool
But escape was not within their power
so from all dangers they did cower
until assistance came from above
from a falling star devoid of love
the "Oom" as it was found to be named
Can today be rightfully as the cause be blamed
for the ruin into which they would fall
blinded by greed, they saw a good haul
Nearly overnight the secrets of space
would smoothly into their society lace
along with health, science, and comfort
but the darkness remained, a final retort
Always would the poor ancients be weak
Until they could leave this world so bleak
With the great powers the Oom made ready
the Ancients set aside all manners deemed petty
and set about creating their finest work
Like a shining jewel plucked from the murk
they wished to be safe at any price
and to steal away into thier paradise
But never was there a glimmer of light
that in its wake did not leave a fight
and so true was this for the Ancient race
whose weapons destroyed without leaving a trace
that they created machines whose power would bind
all of their information into one mind
to save them from thier weakness and greed
which, left unchecked, would plant the seed
that would sprout bloody roots and grow into war
destroying all they had worked so hard for
Despite all thier efforts to maintain the peace
In the end, their safety was only on lease
And as, at last, all came to believe
that misfortune was possible to relieve
by removing a neighbor from the picture
and ignoring the pestering rules of scripture
the Ancients collapsed into heated battle
causing the pillars of Heaven to rattle
until nothing remained, not one Ancient city
and few survivors who recived no pity
from the great machine Fate which continued to judge
and found the warriors guilty, earning it a grude
But what could they do, lost in the terror
The Oom-given gifts served only to mirror
So perhaps the rumor was partly correct
The Ancients had found Truth in some respects
the darkness they feared, which was so great
had actualy spawned from thier own hate
But what of the empty world, the dream made solid?
To this day, the guard remains stolid
watching and waiting with eternal resolve
to find what things will into evolve
And the gift from above, the cursed Oom?
No one's truely sure if it met its doom
or has, despite eons, survived to this day
so upon the greedy it can once more pray[/glow]
[glow=blue,2,400]Long ago in a distant place
There lived a very ancient race
though age does little to explain
The ruin in which they have been lain
To truely understand their plight
One must sink deeply into the night
and lose oneself into the dark
from which all journeys do embark
Deep in the annals of time exists
A maddening rumor that always persists
that this race of Ancients had finally shattered
the walls that hid what truely mattered
and freed thier souls from worldy toil
leaving thier bodies to fall to the soil
This rumor is false, a work of mere fiction
but it was inspired by a true diction
of a race that existed a long time ago
of which today there is nothing to show
They knew the world as harsh and cruel
and endeavoured to not be a cosmic tool
But escape was not within their power
so from all dangers they did cower
until assistance came from above
from a falling star devoid of love
the "Oom" as it was found to be named
Can today be rightfully as the cause be blamed
for the ruin into which they would fall
blinded by greed, they saw a good haul
Nearly overnight the secrets of space
would smoothly into their society lace
along with health, science, and comfort
but the darkness remained, a final retort
Always would the poor ancients be weak
Until they could leave this world so bleak
With the great powers the Oom made ready
the Ancients set aside all manners deemed petty
and set about creating their finest work
Like a shining jewel plucked from the murk
they wished to be safe at any price
and to steal away into thier paradise
But never was there a glimmer of light
that in its wake did not leave a fight
and so true was this for the Ancient race
whose weapons destroyed without leaving a trace
that they created machines whose power would bind
all of their information into one mind
to save them from thier weakness and greed
which, left unchecked, would plant the seed
that would sprout bloody roots and grow into war
destroying all they had worked so hard for
Despite all thier efforts to maintain the peace
In the end, their safety was only on lease
And as, at last, all came to believe
that misfortune was possible to relieve
by removing a neighbor from the picture
and ignoring the pestering rules of scripture
the Ancients collapsed into heated battle
causing the pillars of Heaven to rattle
until nothing remained, not one Ancient city
and few survivors who recived no pity
from the great machine Fate which continued to judge
and found the warriors guilty, earning it a grude
But what could they do, lost in the terror
The Oom-given gifts served only to mirror
So perhaps the rumor was partly correct
The Ancients had found Truth in some respects
the darkness they feared, which was so great
had actualy spawned from thier own hate
But what of the empty world, the dream made solid?
To this day, the guard remains stolid
watching and waiting with eternal resolve
to find what things will into evolve
And the gift from above, the cursed Oom?
No one's truely sure if it met its doom
or has, despite eons, survived to this day
so upon the greedy it can once more pray[/glow]
