The moon reefs its discus sail in the removed vaulted heights.
The sea speaks no fame or ill of the thousand deaths it died.
High winds of foreign seas have assailed my nightly flight,
But Land, here thou sailest with me in my timeless refuge ride.
Thy tears steep my very heart as the shoreline shares the tide;
Thy tears steep my very heart as the shoreline shares the tide.
Thy brilliant spires were beacons of the pious near and far.
In thy golden age of majesty thy power missed no walls.
Dare thou could’st claim company of e’en the eternal avatars;
But Fate alone attended thee at the hour of thy fall.
My aid betrayed thy unshielded hope when thy foes befell thy halls;
Thy foes befell thy hallowed halls, denied e’en death-knell tolls.
There I heard all the prayers lost; the anguished prayers reprised
From the silenced tongues that raised thy dirge for the myriad silent slain.
Thenceforth I course the waves adrift, their voices unappeased,
And anon relive the history no scribe had durst relay,
As if the waters gleamed anew with the crimson of that day;
As if the seas were drunken still with the crimson of that day.
I am of no solace to the nameless abyssal graves,
Yet I stand their vigilance beneath the crescent shade.
Its shattered rays, untainted, deaf, converge on our enclave;
From their ashen stains arise the words that my heart evades.
In both the blood of right and wrong, who shall delight but Hades;
Ah! In an untimely blood, who shall delight, but Hades?
O Land, thou weepest in the wake of exalted ancient pride;
I lived the throes of the weary time that were as well mine.
Thy firmament again holds the stage where man and God collide;
Thy skies again shall see the crimes that the innocent will pine.
Pine, but till the clarion call, of my champion and thine,
For yon breaks the herald morn, of my champion, and thine!
The Hero does not contemn the weak, her shining sword unchains;
The Hero will not slay the strong, wrath her strikes restrain.
By her hands shall die instead thy enemies’ new reign;
On her lips shall live again thy sanctified refrains.
For when the glory falls, merely the song remains.
For when the glory falls, the soul shall thus retain.
(A poem that's been sitting in my head, about as old as Guardian Signs itself P: )
I hate landscapes. ;_; I usually don't submit things this small, but yeah, it was THAT embarrassing to look at D;
("Iria Epta" is my headcanon old name for Oblivia.
Pokemon Ranger and all related contents (c) The Pokemon Company
Art, Writing (c) Aetherya
I'M BLOWN AWAY RN???
THIS IS STUNNING