[First Post] 33
A lone mountain top, screams from beyond the bitter winds, let loose their fury upon an unforgiving world. The wrold that destroyed the Songsinger, that obliterated the soul of the sister that spoke for their cause.
An empty cavern that no more shall know the echoing voice of the desired. Rock walls that as time passes shall never again feel the carress of a silken soothing whisper. An icy chill will fill the air, as no fire shall warm its being.
Devoid of sunlight, denied heavens new birth of life. The memory of what could have been, and what has come to pass, shall ever fill the river of tears. While the Daughter of the Songsinger shall ever be beyond the breezes gentle reach.
The spirits of old reach their hands to the gods, beseeching, pleading. To release the choosen from the depths of hell and the dark lords infinite embrace. All the while the inner demons laugh at the cries of the living and the oppressed.
Far and wide, a darkness shall reign through out the lands, as the heart is continuously denied the body. While within the endless void of eternal punishment, screams suddenly cease and the blood of the damned fill the recess of eternity.
And she who was once the voice of the winds themselves, goes through the final death from within the inner reaches of hell. So shall the living be denied the gift of new life, for all time. To pass beyond the reaches of learning, into the awaiting grip of eternal death.
(Yes this is my first poem here. Though not my first totally written ever.)