Years gone, but my trail did last;
a rightful throne from an ice-cold past,
time to claim back what I have earned,
Freljord, your queen has returned.
et inter amplexus.
et tu præcéssit
in saecula saeculorum.
Haunting fog engulfs the Shadow Isles;
a chorus of doom spreading through miles,
never wondering for whom the bell tolls,
once again, the Black Mist howls.
Still struggling to find my own style, although I am overall pleased with the outcomes, still, my stuff is much amateurish, but anyway, here my third piece of tribute I made recently. Read the video description for more details about it.
Hail the thorns.
Writing is the most meaningful piece of art that is happened to entangle me in its web of wonder, but there are also other forms of art that I pick interest in.
Some months ago I composed a little piece of music, made for my poem “Timeless Darkin” and a bit later I created a second one called “Miss The Darkness”, which I also made for a poem of mine that bears the same name.
Since I only posted the first one here I felt like sharing my second one, too, because I really like how it went out.
When worlds were in state of merging
and black holes stood behind to feed,
in long forgotten age of purging
a hero rose in times of need.
it’s your little fella,
straight out of Bandle City,
right into action witty.
In age where matter quickly changed
from smoky gas to liquid fountains,
a newborn plane rose widely ranged,
rich in heavy particles of mountains.
Since the space originated,
elements, colliding, merging,
ignited and incinerated,
from one to other form converging,
Gather ’round, lads, Eyepoe here,
tonight’s the night of ocean story.
What I’ve seen through my career
will question your pursuit for glory.
I am really dissatisfied dealing with self hosting, so I’m back here in my roots for now. New content coming out soon here to bringhten my lil’ old bloggy blog. Hurrah.
Have you ever heard, my lad,
about a land without a land –
a fortress of clouds with spirit crowds,
unknown to rock, soil and sand.
Of times ethereal,
when space was filled with gassy droughts
and planes material
were only fetus within clouds
>Friendly tip: click on the blue text to reveal its actual sound from the game from where I used the reference. If you stumble upon something dark in the end, just mark the text to reveal it, hehe.
Little boy with bamboo hat,
humbly raised in peaceful tribe,
whose dreams were quite far from flat,
nurturing a higher vibe.