Bashaw Steel

original:) to feel the poem is to feel the fraction of poet`s soul it does not need to be grand or immortal poem of well known artist "just" some honest, deep verses of immortal spirit :))

well done :))

Fall oath I have Sun frozen in my soul Its purpose forgotten but its dreams endure Whos will to burn is only matched By the embrace of its icy cull... It is not a power given, to use it at my own free will But a curse bestowed gently So me too could endure the burden that comes with it With power... Scent of summer carried upon the wind of hearts Where my hopes are standing still In the gardens of eternal fall My golden chains... It is not the fear itself It is not the outcome of this battle But something more than both More than me...

yes, if you believe it then everyone else will believe it too:))

when i draw something it is usually not very different from my 14 year old brother :)) two artist i know, and perhaps the rest of them, said they were born with "it" but i dont think its about equipment, its about spirit:) well, that is the case with poetry :D

here is mine, and next time you guys, come to right place for story:P and when you do, please be awake:)) Aragbor Forged of silence Silence, true silence, is more than just absence of sounds, words and voices. It is the void where our fears never sleep and secrets are no secret at all, because the void is not empty space… It lives in shadows, winds, flesh… In the million of small things from every world which made his immense, and be it because of fate, coincidence or something else, those worlds sometimes collide… Embodiment of all things you dare not to speak, of everything a poor soul can imagine and twisted mind could conjure, all that, and hundred times more. Many fell to it, people, animals, everything that breaths vanishing without trace for no apparent reason, leaving their homes to the mercy of dust, and long silent centuries. Aragbor… Haragdora du san Borar-silence is my domain… It was the night just like this one, with storyteller, scarecrow, and people between them. What they didn’t knew is that one of those worlds will be consumed just like countless before, but which one? Storyteller is not sure anymore, does he tells the story or the story “tells” him? Scarecrow blinked, its eyes far from empty. It was few seconds, few spins of fire they made, but in Aragbor`s world passed more, enough to push himself toward his goal, across the stars, in one step… People stood frozen as the scarecrow jumped to life and into something no sane mind can put to words. Girl behind the storyteller remind herself to scream, but no voice was coming out of her throat. As in dream, scarecrow rushed to the girl, with elegant move of someone who honed his skills over untold millennia, turned her body into bloody mist. Others noticed that scarecrow is just something that holds immaterial horror together, like skeleton. But they noticed death even better. With blood of his friend all over him, young warrior, more of fear than of courage, swooped his blade in horizontal line in attempt to cut the creature in half… Steel went through it and seconds lasted like eternity while he was waiting proof of his victory, realizing in that very moment that he only managed to slice himself in two… People started to run, every breath their death sentence, every step their doom. Woman opened her mouth, attempting to form a spell, her lips moving silently… Yes, the creature is unable to move. Faint light of hope started to shine in her. It was then when she felt that it was not hope, but its destroyer. Second later, creature obliterated wizard women inside out. Others watched in horror as pieces of her were falling down like the rain, and into the fire… Fire! There were no sound whatsoever, but fire could still be heard, warm, alive, it was a song to their ears. They charged creature with burning wood, shattering it, driving it back into the darkness… And themselves into reality Bash hope they forgot for a moment..

nicely done:))

perhaps sarah was the name he give to his anger?

3

this poem is special as the person to whom its dedicated :)) keeping friends, one of the virtues i know, but tend to forget easily:( Secret in the Steel As always, blank piece of paper That screams at me with its whiteness Much like the storm of the dreamer And nothing like the silence… Secret in the Steel Where are all those, promised words? Lost somewhere between the lines I`m cursed to seek something there Which cannot be found A secret in the Steel… And it is there where did i learned From someone who appear just as small That true strength is to forgive Not to destroy… A secret to one that is known to her Smile hidden under all those masks Many of which cannot be heard By the cry of the past… Secret in forgiving…

well, i made forum acc few days ago and i`m "old" in game only 50-60 days:) that verse is much stronger than the rest of them so its only natural to ask if you read it somewhere:P you should write more poems and less all that other stuff:)

As the moving force of the many things, poetry deserves its places here, dont you think?:) Tell me where dreams speak the truth Where all my illusions are more than dust And although there is no eternal youth There is something else… Higher than hope and deeper than faith Something different than all routines Where our souls deserves to rest After being freed… Choose me over the world Ignite the passion within the dying So they may be also free When their time turns to nothing…

perhaps you should choose between those worlds:) anyway "in a poetry without its poem" did you made that verse?