vinebar

Fin
26 December, 2001
Author: Sax

vinebar

The forces have gathered,
after all this time the war is at a close.
The beginning of the end is at hand.
An Apocalypse for lack of another word.

Elves now march into the fray,
mixed among them are wurms,
as well as many other beasts.
The elves are clad,
some in gold and blue,
others in red and brown,
all carrying bows and swords.

Behind is the support,
though hesitant,
they do so willingly.
The army folk march in file and time.
Carrying the same as always,
loaded with real ammo,
shoot to kill.

Out aways,
but in sight along side,
march men of machiene,
cyborgs if you will,
neither live nor dead,
simply there,
they will fight after death.

There's still more marching in,
men of aid,
creatures of surprise,
troops of reinforcement.

------

Now all is in place,
and the slaughter begins.

Elves fall,
men die,
beasts rage,
and demons feed.

The Enemy fair no better,
though gaining strength with each kill.
They are now surrounded,
they will either die with no escape,
or win and cease all there is.

There are too other forces in aid,
too many to describe.

The allies,
back in the day,
when the land they stand upon still had some life.
They saw the coming of the Angel,
and they too saw when she left forever,
and that world died all the more faster.

But they never saw the hill,
the hill with a standing but dead tree,
around it is also shells of life,
deadened flowers,
dead roses.

What was once Carolinas Rose Garden
is now only a garden of thorns.

They never saw it,
and they never saw who planted it...
They never will.

Battle then begins,
the demons surrounded,
but some troops often overshoot,
hitting allied machienes,
not fully adjusting there aim.

The aide has helped,
lessening the demon numbers,
but only creating a standstill,
the true battle lies above.

High above the raging battle,
the highest tower stands blown open,
a level and visible to all dueling ground.
Here is where the final dance begins,
the perfect self weilding only a broad sword,
while the reaper weilds only his own powers and his cold cold claws.

------

And thus it begins,
the Demon strikes first,
the first blow that reveals himself,
the dueling ground,
and what he intends to do.

The perfect self,
me,
nearly is brought to death by the blow,
but by fate,
or is it luck?
I somehow survive.

But now the battle lines have been drawn.

My sword begins to glow a dull gray,
given power by allies beyond,
the demons eyes become a bright red.

I lunge,
steel strikes half flesh,
but it isn't a lethal blow,
it severs its arm,
requireing it to expend power to heal,
as I prepare another blow.

But he avoids it,
and strikes a blow of his own,
that which hits home.

And I bleed as I should.

But then a blast rocks the castle,
knocking us both to our knees,
the I wounder...

..If I surrender,
what is to become of my world?

Stealing a look to the distance,
I see towers not of mine,
smoking and killing,
then I know,
if it is not destroyed utterly,
it will be too dead to repair.

So we stand and continue.

------

Deep below,
in the abandoned basement,
where momentoes are stored from ages past,
now harbors a nest,
a catacomb of webbing,
its maker a hidden black widow.

In the center,
shrouded in the gloom,
hangs a ball of something,
nearly impenetrable,
covered in silk and webbing of all sorts.

It grows not the spiders children,
she can easily live forever,
even if confined.

But instead the egg incubates guilt.
Mournfull items of the past,
placed and stored in the egg,
being fed and growing,
eating away at the castles base,
while the Widow goes about her business.

------

I was wrong,
when I woundered about my epic,
when all I could do is
write,
but instead now I realize,
that this is now my true epic.

I began first upon the black cross,
watching my world burn and shift,
and now here I stand,
looking into the eyes of the Demon,
the one who nailed me on the cross.

I have the power to lay him low,
I need only the strength to use it.

------

Welcome to war!
The new wounds He has given me,
during this last duel,
how they seem to burn,
like they're trying to get down to my bone,
but He also has weakened,
the demons below surrounded and slowly dwindling.

------

But now His claws have become like metal,
able to block my attacks,
and make His own in turn.

Then my sword becomes a brilliant blue,
radiating a white light,
power from my world,
it wants me to win.

Now it becomes a different duel,
both players reluctant to attack,
both players turned into defensive mode,
it's almost as sort of standoff.

------

A flicker,
a flash of light,
the egg,
and the thread that feeds it,
is for but a moment revealed.

------

In an instant,
I charge at the Demon,
I lay in some blows,
and stab it in the face.

But not His true face,
but a face hanging from its ribs,
it looks sad and in torment,
and if it could scream out,
I'm sure it would.

But the Demon screams for it,
yelling and cursing at me in its own language.

Then it makes attacks of its own,
missing me most of the time,
but He impales me with its claws,
and He grabs hold of my spine.
Lifting me up.
Then He throws me against a far and barely standing wall.

I collapse to the ground,
and think of surrendering,
the wound isn't lethal,
but it's so painfull,
when it heals there will only be five round scars,
where His claws entered me.

I retaliate.

Despite the pain,
I swing many times,
most miss,
but two sever His hands,
the metal caseing around his claws clang to the floor,
and his half real flesh melts away,
leaving only the metal shell.

The Demon begins to regenerate,
but slower than before,
we're both weakening,
but I'm winning.

I leap at Him,
backing him away from the metal shells,
and I kick them off our field,
they plummet down to kill below,
its sharp claws digging down into unkown flesh.

Even if,
even if I win,
the land will be scarred,
so many things lost forever,
but the world might be able to recover some,
giving beuty in some places,
where the land remains dead in others.

But for now,
the world remains in suffering,
dieing.
Balls of flame going up,
bolts of lightning going down.

Grey seas hitting shores and cliffs,
and black clouds overhead.

I can't imagine what the sun or moon would look like now,
they're too hidden from sight.

------

Down below,
the demons have lessened in number,
but all the more fierce,
taking down several before them,
concentrating the most on my macheines,
and my castle.

I wish I could say I know I would win this,
but right now I don't know,
and there are no guarantees.

Right now this land,
this castle,
and the final battle,
are all too isolated and distant right now.

But extra troops are on the way,
but all I can do is wait and give it time,
about a week with what I'm told.
Between now and next thursday,
they could show up at any time.

I wish I could say I am the victor,
I wish I could say this is all over.
If I could kill Him now I would,
but I can't,
so I press on,
and use what time I have.

------

In another part of the castle,
away from the spider nest,
away from the war on the ground,
away from the deciding duel,
is a room,
but it's locked away,
you dont even know its there.

Inside the room,
it's almost like a second world,
in the center is a shadow,
its features unknown,
its color neither white nor black,
it's simply there.

My spirit,
my Soul,
it is.

Surrounding it,
on all sides and scattered about,
are thick strong walls,
some are old,
some are brand new.

Beyond the walls,
kept away from my spirit,
is a sky-grey liquid,
the liquid pent up emotion.

Where my spir
it stands,
an inch thick layer of liquid stands,
rarely rising,
rarely falling.

When my demon became revealed,
all these walls broke apart,
my spirit was flooded with unstoppable emotion.

I cried for days.

Without my effort,
one by one the walls were rebuilt,
the flood pushed away.

I'm too scared to try to drain the water in this room.

------

Elseware,
back on the feild of battle,
a hero rides again.

A hero of pain.

He takes no sides,
killing and injuring troops on every side.
The troops that arent killed,
the injured ones,
are eaten away in agony by the Pain Heros venom.

------

In the underground,
a machiene enters the web,
one before,
when it feel in from the fight,
it saw the egg,
but then broke down.

Now another enters,
it knows where it is.

It's found again,
unsure about where its feeding thread is,
it calls in another,
it needs confirmation.

------

Back above,
on the field,
one machiene,
a general,
speaks to another general,
a new found ally.

She says she brought reinforcements,
more are due in afew weeks.

But her scouts report enemys,
reinforcements from the air,
one way or another they'll be here,
one way or another this war will take a turn for the worse.

But instead it dosn't,
very few arrive,
then they fall from the sky in ruin.

The new found allies' reinforcements arrive first,
bringing down the ships,
then pressing in on the demons.
My other reinforcements still too far away.

------

But in the web there is no confermation,
it isn't the thread we want,
we sever it,
but the egg is still there.
So we watch and wait,
we hope to find the thread we need.

------

For a moment I think I've won,
my Demon before me broken and heaving.
I can end it here,
the final blow.

But like an Antichrist,
He rises anew,
and He's filled with rage.

He turns the sky into blood,
He calls down hellfire from the sky,
the urge to scream overwhelms me.

But I fight on,
the sooner I can get more reinforcements,
the better.

The demons below still fight and delay this ending,
more are promised to be on the way.

------

The original allies are nearly gone right now,
but I can see more coming,
they'll be here soon.

The demons are air dropped into battle,
few reinforcements,
but here alittle means alot.

Rising from the ground,
new reinforcements arrive,
made of clay,
nearly unfeeling,
nearly unstoppable.

Even more are promised on the way.

------

Again the dwindling battle erupts anew,
extra strength on both sides.
I have now allied reinforcements,
though two fire at each other,
but the demons are too given more.

But now they have new tactics,
sometimes they're invisible to many.

------

The demons,
they hide underneath,
in places you cannot see,
they are under my sleeves,
there,
in the darkness,
you can see them.

------

But my other too has newfound strength,
He has a new fury all His own.
He is able to scarr my form again,
He is able to thwart my attacks,
He is able to hurt me again.

------

Maybe I wasn't ready,
maybe,
maybe I wasn't ready to unveil my world,
it's given Him more power and strength.

I need to find sancuary.

------

There are many missfires,
hitting one another,
hitting myself.

But the allies pour in,
again and again and again,
slowly overpowering the demons,
though they themselves at times are reinforced,
overpowering my friends for a time,
but pressing harder,
regaining the lost ground from the demons.

Kelly's forces rush in leigions,
there's so many of them,
she wants me to win this war.

------
Above them all,
as if we were gods,
me and Him still duel,
I deal him pointless wounds,
and He retaliates,
His attacks forever scarring my body,
they really do look like claws now,
claws cutting away at my skin.

But where is the egg of guilt in all this?
It has disapeared from the world,
passed from memory,
no longer mattering very much.

------

Back on the ground,
the elves flood in
by thousands,
opening up the hell-rage of the earth upon the demons,
the army folk also there.

But something is affoot...
There aren't many army folk there.
There's some undermining my forces,
compromising my defense!

What is this?!
Some of the elves and army folk are firing at each other!

But "my" elves,
the ones of my dear Kelly,
she presses onward.
But yet a fear creeps over the elves,
one of another ally.

If this other ally should see,
just how many elves are here,
the ally would unleash a weapon upon them,
one that will hinder there foreward march,
one that would slaughter countless elves!

The weapon is in sight,
a large omnimous cannon.
All it needs is to lock and fire,
it's prepped and loaded.

But all my allies are there and fighting strong,
I only hope the cannon does not fire.

But nothing has arrised in the battle with myself.

------

Yet now it has finally come,
this story is finished,
this is it,
it's finally over.

The end,
and ruin,
of all has finally come.

He has fallen,
yet there is no final death,
He is to be set aside.

My world though,
it has become angry,
it's been held by Him for far too long.

The demons did not fade as I'd hoped,
nor fled in confusion.
Instead they fight on with there goal.
The skys get only darker,
they rain down acid and blood,
fire and pain.

The erath below partakes in the anger,
it begins to rip and tear at itself,
rising and falling like an angry sea in a storm.

Some of the forces are killed or pulled away.
The menacing cannon still stands despite the now jello ground.

But atleast,
despite the now erupting chaos,
things are coming to a close.

My enemy has fallen,
atleast for now.

So now,
this peice is complete.
My ten month thought has reached its end.
I can only hope for a quick end,
so that things can repair and grow anew.

vinebar

Comments on this poem/writing:

Run long bear (67.26.88.161) -- Monday, January 13 2003, 08:25 pm

WoW We!

This is quite a poem! What length, nice work. You must be a writer. What imagination. I could never write one like this. Thanks for sharing your ten months of work. Keep writing to us.
 
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