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First, something story and slightly silly.


There once was a world of fire.
of fire...
But the games in the heavens continued.
for ever...
And in one turn of the ages, fire ceded to air -
celestial winds...
- so it was decided that fire should not take flight
oh! how he fought...
And so fire fell from the sky
a bright rain...
and destruction was wrought in its path
a path fore'dained...
And thus was an age ended
fire rended...
And the age of man began.



I miss the great lizards.
Shush!  The poem's over.
So stop the dream already.




And then a prayer and a sermon.  Why not?


Light Bringer, in heaven, we praise you.
For your gift of warmth, we thank you.
For driving back the night, we love you.
Light Bringer, in heaven, we praise you.

Light Bringer, on earth, we praise you.
For our meals, we thank you.
For the light of truth, we love you.
Light Bringer, on earth, we praise you.

In days past there lived, in the mountains most holy, a foolish man.
His family was holy and all of his friends were holy.
Holy people in a holy land.

Yet he felt that he was unworthy of the light; and thus he craved to be more holy.
And so, one day, he approached the living flame.
And he asked it to make him as holy as he could be.
And he entered the flame.

And yet he did not change.

And in that momet the light of klnowledge entered into him and the light of truth filled him.
And so he came to know, as all should know, that all men are equally worthy of the flame of life which shines light upon us all.

{Response: We praise you.}

And then the flames consumed him.

For the flames show no favorites, as they shall in turn consume us all.

{Response: We praise you.}

Light Bringer, in heaven, we praise you.
For the gift of knowledge, we thank you.
For the gift of truth, we adore you.
Light Bringer, in heaven, we praise you.

Light Bringer, on earth, we praise you.
For the gift of light, we thank you.
For the consuming flame, we adore you.
Light Bringer, on earth, we praise you.




How about a couple of slightly off-beat poems about battles?

Mary had a brother,
as Mary's do, you know.
And everywhere her brother went -
Mary had to go.

She followed him to war one day,
whereat, she had a scare.
She ran back home, without delay -
Her brother?  He's still there.




On this stone, a general sat
As generals're wont to do.
"These fields are bad -
The people bled.
No, this will never do."

He thought for long.
he thought par hard.
Until a solution he felt that he saw:
"A peace!" He cried.
And then he died.
His men went off to war.


(That's actually a replacement ending - I kinda still like my deliberately unscanning one:  His men killed him on this spot.  Both versions should exist.)



SeeAlso: Vitenka/MarchingSong
CategoryFiction, was it?

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Last edited July 26, 2006 1:35 am (viewing revision 2, which is the newest) (diff)
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