A chill fills the air,
A radiance covers the ground,
Men rise,
Men fall,
Made of the same powder which fell.
Algid pellets fly past,
Crush in cones of cold to the floor,
Children win,
Children lose,
Forts made of the same powder which fell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sorry that I haven't posted anything in a while. Life's been a little too shitty you know?
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Red-Man's Journal (1st Entry)
First Era 621
Autumneye
2nd Froanus
We are anxious to begin. Our job is simple: find the ring,
bring it back to the sponsor, get paid. Simple! This feeling of
anxiety grows only more so among the three of us as our
caravan ventures deeper into the Badlands.
What a odd trio we make: I, the next in a long line of clerics,
a warrior who bears an impressive array of equipment.
Though it appears the glory of both body and steel
have long passed.
And he stinks too.
Then I have sitting across from me what appears to be some
sort of ranger concealed in a green shroud. He hasn't spoken
a word since we left. Meanwhile I can hardly get this burnout
of a fighter to shut his mouth for a few moments peace.
Not only is he rude, he's also very loud.
I'll have to write another time.
It seems that we've stopped for some reason...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is the start of a series I call The Red-Man's Journal. This series will be short posts that make up the Red-Man's journal entries. This is going to be difficult since I need to write in a different style than mine.
Autumneye
2nd Froanus
We are anxious to begin. Our job is simple: find the ring,
bring it back to the sponsor, get paid. Simple! This feeling of
anxiety grows only more so among the three of us as our
caravan ventures deeper into the Badlands.
What a odd trio we make: I, the next in a long line of clerics,
a warrior who bears an impressive array of equipment.
Though it appears the glory of both body and steel
have long passed.
And he stinks too.
Then I have sitting across from me what appears to be some
sort of ranger concealed in a green shroud. He hasn't spoken
a word since we left. Meanwhile I can hardly get this burnout
of a fighter to shut his mouth for a few moments peace.
Not only is he rude, he's also very loud.
I'll have to write another time.
It seems that we've stopped for some reason...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is the start of a series I call The Red-Man's Journal. This series will be short posts that make up the Red-Man's journal entries. This is going to be difficult since I need to write in a different style than mine.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
A Fresh Look.
Nostalgia soothes.
An old friend,
An old value,
An old song.
Wishes for peace,
Wishes for love,
Wishes for days gone.
Vera Lynn,
An untempered talent,
A raw voice,
Much like a girl I know,
So free,
So tranquil,
A fresh look through an old window.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To be honest, this was something of a spurr in the moment.
A friend of mine suggested that I start this blog to get myself out there and sharpen my pitiful skills. My name is Ryan Freitas. I enjoy writing cheezy poetry, cooking, and cartooning. You can expect anything from a random piece of prose to a recipe to one of my "Charles" comic strips. I'll try to post regularlish. So bear with me.
An old friend,
An old value,
An old song.
Wishes for peace,
Wishes for love,
Wishes for days gone.
Vera Lynn,
An untempered talent,
A raw voice,
Much like a girl I know,
So free,
So tranquil,
A fresh look through an old window.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
To be honest, this was something of a spurr in the moment.
A friend of mine suggested that I start this blog to get myself out there and sharpen my pitiful skills. My name is Ryan Freitas. I enjoy writing cheezy poetry, cooking, and cartooning. You can expect anything from a random piece of prose to a recipe to one of my "Charles" comic strips. I'll try to post regularlish. So bear with me.
-Romaji
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