A poem set I did ages ago, old and new
|The plain white on a marble wall
Shines in the instant sun
A wooden staff with a pointed black tip
Accompanied by one of metal
Strikes the banner and marks it,
Then strikes it again and again,
Sometimes one stroke, but usually many.
The dull side wipes and heals bad marks.
Slashing, striking, rubbing, wiping, until
The staff breaks from the strain,
Only to be replaced by one stronger
Until it is complete.
The banner is now an image of beauty;
Taken down and put in a safe place.
The sun blacks out, the staves at rest,
Waiting for the warrior's work to continue.
A black wall...
the rare marble stone glistened in the sunlight
supporting large blank scrolls
surrounding a dark jade pillar.
from the distance, a lone figure approaches
like a predator waiting to pounce.
the figure casts his eyes to the wall,
as if rating a meal for the populace.
He closes his eyes and breathes.
almost instantly, a scroll look to be set aflame
although the heat in the room did not change.
another scroll, burst with the colors of the forest
yet no creatures stirred.
once more, a scroll glistened with the waves of the seas
and one thought to see the surface ripple
bright gold adorned the next scroll,
coins and treasure seemed to glimmer with the celestial lights
and again, yet another scroll seemed to spin the winds themselves
the dusty earth could endure the storm
but the last scroll held something troublesome...
obsidian mixed with splatters of crimson.
bones and rotting flesh piled at its bottom.
one could hear the cries of agony placed in this image
the figure then laid his glance to the jade pillar.
he pulled out a bright black sword and a pointed yellow staff
he closed his eyes once more...
as the Sun fell into the earth, the pillar was in a more human form.
rough strikes and marks were everywhere, its head just noticable
the figure stepped towards the stone,
placing his hand on top of his creation and uttered two words quietly
and with a gentle breeze, he vanished.
the stone seemed to crumble away, but it was only a shell.
the stone gave way to a statue one's eyes couldn't even imagine:
A beautiful woman displayed in flowing robes, leaving much to the imagination
her body seemed to envision hope through despair
arms holding each other to defend herself from sadness
legs struggling to keep their footing on cursed ground
her face, lightly scarred from ages past had one place left unblemished
a smile of gratitude