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Apollyon

Thanatine Struggle

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Here is a new epic I'm working on. It will be largely iambic pentameter, except for bits such as the prologue. I hope you like it!  :)

Thanatine Struggle Prologue

"So I shall tell a story,"

Said he, never tiring

Of the attention that was

Surely of his own invention.

"And it shall be an epic

Tale

Of a clash 'tween bold

Immortals

And those yet far more frail,

Hailed as mere mortals."

His audience was hushed

To silence, ever wanting

A tale of even greter violence.

And so did he begin:

"In a time of greater

Sin,

There stood a man enveloped

By his crimes

So far that his very soul did

Burn brighter than doth a star.

He had killed a hundred, a thousand,

More, and never did he

Abide to any lesser mortal's

law.

But the candle that marked

That mighty warrior's

Life had over time turned

Black as consequence unto

His own created strife.

And all the more it burned

Ever lower that he knew his

Time as sower was near at

End and soon would come

The time to reap the

Death for which he was cause

And feel upon his beared white

Neck Satan's breath along

With those terrible, deadly, sharpened

Claws.

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Great stuff Apollyon :) You've always been a master, and I hope you'll get this stuff published soon.

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Hehe thanks a lot! Me too.  ;)

Chapter 1

Hellish, reckless chaos thunder broiled

Amid the hastening storm furl'd withal

Charging cavalry through charcoal clouds above,

Beckoning omen lowly men unto.

Rippling spears Heaven-cast mud-struck in flight

On polish'd order vainly died below,

Clockwork-akin, line marching furious, 

Approaching citadel a-fore, clothed

Black like night's deepest opportunity.

Dark entailed he within, a-peering:

Vigil of first deceased since time's arrival,

Servicemen storm persevered, restworthy now,

Replaced relief would not let guardian cease.

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It really is amazing to me that you so, apparently easy recreate this particular writing. It really feels like your reading some by Sir Alfred Lord Tenyson. It's a little more difficult to pull together, but in contemplating the style and the words you get the full depth of the story and the poetic beauty of this style of writing. Again, bravo :) Excellent stuff.

Now if you'd only scroll down and read the short story I posted here :P

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Ta very much like.

Those castle walls shone bright irridescence,

Seated in realm at lowest station, hell-

Like stature, cause, but on world physical,

Linked through gate to planes other, more than

Flecks of flotsam on sea, needles evergreen,

Or furtive stars overseeing men below.

Castle master, Entroth named and soul,

Lord of Callast, stricken land, with death fill'd.

Murderer of many, butcherer of all,

Thief to worlds thousand,  harbinger of doom.

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Brilliant stuff Apollyon, you really let it all flow well in a way that just sounds good when you read it to yourself.

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Entroth eye-cast smil'd - 'twas sand in divine

Sight, blocking image of truth to obscure

Shadow-light schemes and dark-silver counsel.

War rag'd eternal 'cross madness melange -

The world, existence, chaotic - full storm,

Devouring towns, cities, lives and all that

Lay in its dark inescapable path

So that all the realm roar'd with slothful war.

Slothful in far grander scale unhalting,

For neither side had hope of triumph done,

A war unbroken would play out it seem'd,

'Till world itself was last undid by time.

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He turned 'bout to whisper course to those

Nearby: generals three, once four, stood calm.

One had fled to death not long ago - no loss,

For he was in central cause gone at last,

And had serv'd Entroth well all time throughout.

Nodding assent, one left for journey long,

Others spoke ranks, prepar'd for battle's song...

Chapter 2

Remembrance-abandon'd in dark abyss,

He - a man unam'd, unfulfill'd in ken,

Knowledge of self broken as a glass that,

Holding water of memories, shatters

And spills, flowing effervescent across

The dusty surface of life archaic -

Was lost in darken'd corridors a-swirl -

A gate that robb'd him of being and self

In entirety, leaving a man-husk,

Fill'd not with known, only questions unknown.

Vomited in final on parch'd red earth,

He groan'd a crescendo - collaps'd in dark.

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