NationStates Jolt Archive

Now look up see the starry sky and gaze
though stars are small they radiate so bright
be calm and tranquil; practice peace and maze.

Now, I think, wondering and sitting-gaze
on upwards silence fills my mind so bright
now look up see the starry sky an gaze.

Serenity and stillness; silence blaze
in head the thoughts so quiescence brings no fright
be calm and tranquil; practice peace and maze.

This sweet and silent darkness entices a blaze
of fire-fervor-amber spark a light
now look up see the starry sky and gaze.

This light so bright and intensifies and graze
the heavens above brightens dreary night
be calm and tranquil; practice peace and maze.

Caught by this gaze I feel enlightened phase
become not dark and dull and gives me might
now look up see the starry sky and gaze
be calm and tranquil; practice peace and maze.

She flicked her right hand to release the tension from writing that peotry. Drops of black ink scattered in the air; a drop lands on her cheek. Her hand quickly wipes it clean. She looks up at the sky with her dark purple eyes. It was dark already and the moon’s luminous light reflected on her pale skin. She grabbed her pamphlet and placed it into her leather bag across her chest.

A journey, a voyage, a reawakening. A cleansing is what she needed. She needed to get away from this town...it could engulf a person whole. She didn’t want to be stuck like everyone else, stuck there in a rut. She remembered a dream, a dream she had, a dream that haunted her.

As I sit here and wonder why
ideas run through my head
I see it in a scene
a dark and dreary red

of visions dear to me-for now
my gorgeous love I
do remember that face
my brain is told to try
a whitish yellow colored light
my eyes close for its bright
my memories lay ahead
my vision is alright

so beautifully drawn with my love
with delicate fingers
the voice whispering softly now
what we were, now lingers

in the sky flutter butterflies
in dark, we share a kiss
and dance and laugh, repeatedly
the sound of crazy bliss

we speak unforgotten words of love
we pass it happier
but now you’re gone and I am not
every moment quieter

my heart melts like morning dew
even though we are apart
you are but a tear in my eye
you will stay in my heart

I am almost sad remembering you
but you were my sweet flower
and you mean everything to me
yours and mine love tower

grogglely I shake my numb mind
blinking eyes repeatedly
the light seems very different
my two eyes move swiftly

remembering my sweet memories
nothing is what it seems
for I have never known that face
just being a vivid dream.

Resting her head on a near by oak tree her eyes heavily closed. She needed to find her muse. Tomorrow would be a new day, a day for mysteries to be unraveled.

OOC: This is a open role-play. Looking for people to meet on her journey. This is a fantasy, so you can have any type of character you want. If you would like you can tell me through a telegram. More of the plot will reveal itself as I get more participants. Thank you.

Flickers of pale light startle her to arouse. Her eyes slowly open and she is blanketed in a soft light. Chirping can be heard in the distance, but nothing else stirs. She rubs her tired eyes and reorientates herself.

Where am I? Did I not drift off to sleep under an oak tree, now it seems I am just resting in a field of velvet grass.

She flexed her back and rolled her neck. She got up and stretched her bare legs. What? Realizing now that she was naked. Her bare body, not chilled by the night’s loss of heat. She began to walk noticing the outer limits of a dense forest. She began to walk into its darkness. Under the mass of trees, she could still see. See in the blackest of black. Midnight black. It was if she illuminated light herself. Her skin not its normal soft bronze color, the sun touched color now a silver glow. And why was there no sound. The chirps had disappeared long time ago. Well, as soon as she entered the forest. Now, beneath her feet the ground seemed to go downward. She shifted her balance to the back, as not to fall. Ahead of her seemed to be a break from the endless dense of trees. The breaking seemed to be a small pool of water.

A pond maybe?

The pond, also, seemed to glow with the same light her skin did. As she got closer she realized it was the moon. The pond had an opening above to let some light shine through. She sat at its edge, looking in the pond, but not at her reflection. She could not see anything in the pond, only light.

What does this mean?

Her hand slowly reached forward to touch the water, just before her fingers were to graze the lucid water, a shrill caw came from a bird from above.

Her purple eyes widened, then to blink repeatedly, as perspiration dripped into the inner canthus of the eyes. The back of her hand wiped the sweat away and she sat up. She looked around.

I must have been dreaming. For here I am under the tree, with the sun scorching above me. It must be almost mid-day now.

Her white sun dress clung to her skin, as if it were her second layer of skin. She looked down and saw her pamphlet out and writing in it, with her ink and feather out. She opened to the last page and noticed another poem, in her hand-writing style.

Where does safety come to, light ir night-time?
Light is bright and cool-ish.
Radiating this security?
Powerful and intensifying us .
Brings us light and protects.
You have taken misery from your people.

Granted me with earnest.
Given me a face, undoubtedly
Beautiful different toward shadows.
Emphasized with glowing ambers.
Given people identity, not
Grayish matter meaning nothing.

Guarding people from the evil.
Hiding behind every corner, surrounded by shadows.
Light will chase the dark away.

Where does safety come to, light or night-time?
Pale unearthly light elucidates this,
Yet, does bring a gloom to people.
Moon will cause unhappiness and brings a weak unhealthy nature.

Granted me with nervousness and
Searching every which way for demons.
Hallucinating, illusions, horrors.
Shadows mask silent devils, while
Demons watch with gleams in
Eyes, they wait in malice.

She turned the page and another poem was written there.

The dusk brings a glow
of eerie dreams, haunting ghosts
along drifts the light

What does this all mean? And who wrote this.

She gathered her things into her leather pouch and went off in search of the writer.