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1  Santharian World Development / The Santharian Library / While Lotanns Greet the Summer Air on: 09 June 2008, 23:51:13

Why do I think of barren lands and frost
while lotanns greet the summer air?
Why do I bend my head and feel so lost
despite the Dream I love to share?

Why? It was winter's fist which threw
an icy ball far in the spring.
My saddened soul had hoped anew
but now - no sanguine bird does sing.

What did I wrong? I ask me now -
could my commitment, even love
be understood so wrongly, how
am I to keep my joy, my troth?

I think of barren lands and frost
while lotanns greet the summer air.
I bend my head for I am lost,
not able anymore to share

a Dream.

Sad Poet


2  Santharian World Development / The Santharian Library / Re: Quatern on: 01 February 2007, 18:07:39
A last quatern


Its hard to lose a trusted friend
no matter if he only goes
to live at new found, alien shores
or if you have to say your last

good-bye, your eyes will fill with tears:
its hard to lose a trusted friend.
But I believe its harder still
to realise that those you thought

were friends turn out to be just mere
acquaintance; sadness fills your heart.
Its hard to lose a trusted friend,
for if a friend has left, you still

have pleasant memories to soothe
your grief, whereas youre left alone
when friendship was just business - then
its hard to lose a trusted friend.

                                                 Sad Poet

3  Santharian World Development / The Santharian Library / Re: Quatern on: 25 January 2007, 19:19:19
Free form, maybe a bit too prosaic. No title.

I  had hoped
for a word or two, not more
to dispel my doubts
to south my sorrows
to chase away all things which tore
my heart apart.

I had hoped
when speaking out my sorrow
that problems could be solved,
differences cleared and 
maybe tomorrow
would bring us together

I had hoped
the hands a few friends offered
would hold me tight.
But the darkwinds blew,
my grip lost its power
and Injr ceased to shine .

I waited endlessly
for a word or two, not more,
telling me that my cry was heard.
Words arrived, at last, but not
the word or two
I had hoped for.

I  waited
for this word or two,
till dolour turned to languidness.
Once I lived inside a dream
as it lived inside me
and I believed it would be so forever.
Not anymore.
Every day without that word I waited for
pushed me away.
I blamed the darkwinds homing our souls
but now I know that even though they stopped to blow:
The void inside ourselves kills dreams.


I am not longer drifting away
from what I once had called my home,
where my soul had settled.
I am not longer sailing the unforgiving void
far past Injrs paths.
But nothing has changed to the better.

Now I walk the lands which I once owned
as guest, I try to help, but my hands and fingers

Standing  in darkness, hidden by high trees,
I look at a house, a castle,  with windows lit so brightly
- but the door is closed.

Inside  people are laughing,
old faces celebrating with new ones;
and I cry.
Once I belonged to them,
now the key of lacking understanding and the irons
of  disregard lock the door from the inside.
I am longing to be there, staring.
A side door - there,  small and hidden.
Too small though for my heart, which, while I slip in, stays back
between the dark trees.


I still hope,
for a word or two, not more
which could open the locked door
and let me in

Av, dont open your eyes.
Dream me back
before it is too late
for the ties, they weaken
and I feel Im fading into the naught,
the nothingness.
What is left from me is not more
than a tiny spark which is prone to die
in the deadness of the void.

Av, dream me back...

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