Ages have I blasted with my strongest blow Tornadoed into a chaotic frenzy Howled in rage and bitter ire Tearing trees from the warmth of weak earth With all effort and still You do not tumble from that peak Tell me, Carraug, for frustration grows What has kept you more rooted than the trees? Sir Griain peeked over Farraige's brow His dazzling armour blinding I, too, have scorched your very skin Seared the place on which you sit Yet you do not tumble into the refreshing abyss What has melded you to this site? I too have stretched out my hand Drowning you in the undertow of my power Yet steady, you, on the brink of destruction Tell us why you have decided so That our hands may not relish in smite Farraige swelled with interest. Thus Carraug spoke. Sweltering beneath the surface Caressing the core On the verge of eruption Fuming to breathe, grasping the crisp air Love finally bled Unwelcomed Beat in a cold submission Unloved, the molten mass hardened So I came to be of fire. The burning desires beneath quavered They tore themselves apart In search of another Crashing, the loved submitted to the lover As they toppled over Mountains of affection they created So I came to be of earth. It came to be that grain loved grain Their collision, so intense, one defined With each current, grew an addiction Rolling through relationships With passing waves All consuming was their fluid love So I came to be of sea. I, Carraug, birthed of elements Came to realize my purposelessness Inadequate is my place To live among such generals as yourselves Futile, the initiation of strategy and destruction Were you to succeed in ending my existence Into the depths of the unknown abyss I would have gladly welcomed it Before such an event occurred. Goath held his breathe, his cheeks round with red Sir Griain rose in anticipation Farraige ebbed to swallow the tale. So it came to pass That two creatures approached Grappling my crooked crevices, One perched itself on my head The other stabbed my side repeatedly Seconds went by and soon they left Left me with a wound Piercing my inner core Perish, I dare not For I am marked, a possession This tattoo incites those who look upon it Their hearts will forever be turned And they will marvel at such a scar On the brink of destruction I am forever bound and will not falter. Goath's head soared with confusion He rose to join the departing Sir Griain Whispers froze in the air He shall fall soon enough Farraige receded and caught a glimpse of the wound He began to cry for the tattoo was something Greater than death Secretly he envied the carvers and Carraug Who challenged the brink with a stationary face As if he had always been there, forever bound.
03/21/05