The place for the more artistic minds

[Black Knight of Keno]

First thing, this is actually not a Story, but more of fan fiction, if you would like to call it that, or a writing thread in general. I'll be liking you to post poems of all kinds(Would they be haikus, poems or whatever else of types there are), short scribblings and riddles into this thread. If you'd like, we(the dwellers of the forum) can also judge your piece of writing.


I'll start with an old poem of mine. Yay! ^.^

Can thou it brother, the drums that drill into our hearts?
Can thou feel the disapproval of gods that are eternal?
Can thou see the darkness that starts to dig throught our hearts?
Can thou smell the greenery that dies behind out steps?
Can thou taste what has become of the ground that we raise our food on?
Everything is ruined because of our natural defects.
Those natural defects that make us a part of the human race.
But is it all worth it, that is thy question, and it cannot be answered.

[Writer]

Hmm... the blind man tripped over his own feet, fell off the bridge and died.

(In other words, you've got a great idea, but I've not written anything short...)

[Black Knight of Keno]

Well, send 'em in anyways >.>

[Writer]

What... you want my long stuff? Let me tell you now: you don't... it's all so long I'd consider making new threads for each one... and I won't be doing that either because I'm interested in getting some of them published.

[Flamehart]

Well hey, if short writings apply, I would like to submit something I wrote earlier today. It was inspired by some things some friends said to me, and I just wanted to get an idea of what you guys thought. It's my first time writing in anything of this style, and I thought it turned out well:

A man is standing at the edge of a cliff, his eyes gazing into the magnificent canyon before him. It is a sculpture of the upmost splendor, as if carved into the earth by a god. At the bottom of this canyon ran a winding river. The man's attention is drawn to this river by its shimmering glint caused from the blazing sun. The man's eyes follow the path of the twisting stream as far as his eyes permit, thus not restricting him from seeing the end of this river's road. The river's winding path is unfortold, as is man's destiny. His fate is only as evident as the path that is visible before him. All that is beyond the eye's restriction is unforseen, and will unfold as each man takes a step down their own path.