~Tales from the Fall~ "The Cataclysm".

~Tales from the Fall~

Daedalus The end
and the beginning

I heard the chariot coming as the fear and terror of the oncoming huffs struck each unstopable blow. I ran so fast untill the stars began dissapearing from the sky. As my world was sucked up from under my feet, I leaped through the light. My heart running ever faster, yet the chariot ever closer untill the sound from it's wheels became a deafening scream of fear and terror that consumed every known light of salvation. I had lost all direction, in all points of my compass. Blinded by a shadowless light which deprived me of all sight, all sound, and all direction to turn to, or from. I found my self frozen in the void of all dreams. And there in their silents, I saw all that I love and loved me, all who will go before me and follow behind me, through the water of reality into life's beginings once more.

I found my self frozen in the void of all my dreams in their silents, inside a coccoon of my tale's past.

I heard the chariot coming. As the fear and terror of the oncoming huffs struck through my heart I ran so fast untill the stars began dissapearing from the sky. As the earth was sucked from up under my feet, I leaped to the Moon. My heart running ever faster, yet the chariot ever closer untill the sound from it's wheels became a deafening scream of the fear and terror that consumed the Moon's only light in hopeful salvation. I had lost all direction in all points of my compass. Deprived of all sight, all sound, and all direction to turn to I found my self frozen in the void of all my nightmares that wished me dead in their silents. It was then the lightening bolt of distruction struck strait through my heart, spoken from the voice of Daedalus.

A poem by,
~Time Lord~

 

I styled it in the spirit of this old ingame book of Ultima Online entitled:

"The Fight"

A cold autumn morning with misty fog secures a dozen brave knights, supplying hidden shelter from prying eyes deep in the foothills of the vibrant valley. Dragons soar like fierce warriors, circling around and around, then roaring like thunder, rallying all that listen. The dragons land swiftly beside the proud warriors, bending necks and extending wings, lifting black claws and allowing valiant fighters to ride forth and win an arisen battle. The increasing winds silence the sounds of combat, and they fight, standing their ground like mothers protecting their children, bright armor flashing as each one falls.

A cold autumn’s evening with misty fog cradles a dozen battered corpses of knights, creasing them in currents of winds that run deep in the foothills of the desolate valley. Dragons glide like silent angels, circling around and around, then calling like banshees; keening cries of mourning. The dragons land heavily beside the peaceful bodies, bending their necks and extending wings, lifting black claws and pinching the sacred ground and new eternal home. The dying winds whistle among the dead in somber procession, and they lie, grasping weapons to protect themselves like knights still in battle, shattered armor shining like newly born stars.

by M. De La Garza