Being a work-in-progress collection by the bard Mandrake Merryjest. Desolation ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Here lie they, the ashen-clad, the umber-shod. The still-soft hand warmed by life-stealing, unfeeling warmth. The fire-taken, the fire-forsaken among the ashes where all solace died. The Priestess And Her Lord ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Moonlit grace in samite clad, Her flame cannot rekindle the ember of his art. What coils here in wait 'round their guileless hearts? The Boasters ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Much is made of but little shown, The path is treacherous, seldom trod by those whose keenest virtue is the exercise of tongue. Still ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Be still, be at peace, the verity of silence surpasses all belief. There is no word that, being born, may not to falsehood turn. Acrostic ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Allow for doubt to blind thee, veering thy course away, Attack thy certainty until it fastens, tested sorely in duress. All thou knowest- call falsehood first, Reason, then, need prove the rest.