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A patch of blue way up high,
overpowered by beaten white peaks of cloud in the sky. A little girl watches as the wind blows, she feels her mind slowly ebb away from reality. A ruined castle sits undisturbed, abandoned amongst the lush green fields. Alone she waits. Far back into the past, a Crusader kneels in a courtyard. Watched from all sides by archers atop high ramparts. He kneels, his tattered tunic stained with blood. The blood of the innocent; woman, man and child. He stares up at the sky, the very sky gazed on by his forefathers and his children. His eyes brim with tears, hot metal sears the flesh in his back. Penance is demanded. The Crusader is still and ever silent. A patch of blue reflected in his tears. Just a small poem that I wrote when after I played a bit of Clive Barker's Jericho today; with the main menu music in my head. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jLfncjjroec It made me think about just how close time wise we are to our medieval ancestors. It's was only 1095 when Pope Urban II proclaimed the first Crusade and sent many to their deaths and created a system of systematic bloodshed that would only end at the conclusion of the ninth crusade in 1272. When you look up at the sky, you can imagine an ancestor, in a different time looking back at the same sky.
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Always listening to The Orb: O.O.B.E... ![]() My fanfic "The man who learns only what others know is as ignorant as if he learns nothing. The treasures of knowledge are the most rare, and guarded most harshly." -Chronicle of the First Age "Try to see the forest through her eyes." Réalisant mon espoir, Je me lance vers la gloire. Je ne regrette rien. (Making my hope come true, I hurl myself toward glory. I regret nothing.) Last edited by Pa'li Makto; 09-28-2011 at 07:55 AM. |
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| crusader., poem, sky |
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