In the undying words of Granny Weatherwax: I AINTET DEAD!
I've
been meaning to post this after I post the next Shadows chapter but…
The typing is going slower then I thought and also, I have some
serious studying to do which makes the process even slower, so I
figured I might as well give you people something to chew on in the
meantime.
These
two might make more sense after reading the next Shadows chapter;
alternatively, the next Shadows chapter might make more sense after
reading these two. Can be read as stand-alones as well.
I've
always been better at expressing myself through poetry than prose.
Not a top-notch poetry by any means, but I've been told I generally
manage to get the message through. What message, though, is often a
mystery, even to me. Not so with these two, however.
These
are the only two poems ever that were directly inspired by a
character concept I created (meaning, not based on any personal
experience). Ironically enough, also the only two pieces that didn't
make it into any chapter of Shadows.
"The Tomb" is a fairly old one, written way back in 2001 (or was it 2002?) while Shi'van was still but a vague idea in my head, as an RPG character and under a different name. The original version is in Serbian, but I'm pretty satisfied with how the translation came out. I managed to keep the pacing, the structure and the rhythm of it unchanged and in poetry, that is about the biggest plus you can get.
"Silence" is a more recent addition, perhaps three or so months old. I had a temporary block with a part of the chapter I was (and still am) working on, so I wrote Silence instead.
Silence
silence
- neither croak, nor shout
silence – voiceless; heavy;
deep
foreboding, a soundless shroud
neither whisper, nor a
weep
silence - not outside - within
silence - the
imprisoned thoughts
dark and painful, mocking grin
sliding
blade across the throat
silence - tomb of the unspoken
silence
- viper cold and dead
voiceless void, a wordless token
drying
blood on desert sand
silence - echoes of the rust
silence -
path to netherworlds
isolation, swallowed dust
of the dunes of
unsaid words
silence - paint the walls in bitter
silence -
bleeds through fever dreams
strangulation, soulless drifter
in
a grave of unheard screams
& & &
The Tomb
In
a thick stench of sweat
The
smelly entrails of the street poured out
And
spilled onto dust its decay
While
the corrosion eats away at the dagger
Forgotten
in a corpse, on dog's excrements
-
silent feet walking away
The
blue-green markings of lust
Inerasably
imprinted by dirty hands
On
stale piles of garbage and dirt
Another
handful of salt
Rubbed
again into barely healed scars
-
bad blood, in darkness cursed
In
a humid corner, in spasm
A
shadow of broken body is bending
Revolted
by touch, convulsing
A
drop sliding out of a dead eye
That
hides bitterness in a stare of glass
-
muffled pain numbly pulsing
Through
sickness and burning fever
Fists
clenched in helpless despair
In
rage, in mute scream that lashes
A
runaway mind in suffering chained
The
feelings choked in deadened chest
-The
soul poisoned with ashes
Sickened yet? With the review button right there, you can tell me all about it. ;)