Arat-Falathion
07-20-2003, 10:24 AM
Ah, finally I finished something... or perhaps it is just a part of something bigger I could write, who knows...
Anyway, I wrote this to Hans Zimmer & Lisa Gerrard - The Gladiator Theme. It is so beautiful, and I tried to catch the mood and strong emotion of that song in my text. Ah, that wasn't easy...
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The beauty of it all
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A great grassland displayed into view as the crow shifted easily on the wind and settled at the perch of a scorched bush. The bush was set in the middle of this vast grassland, and there it stood triumphantly, as if history had been written at this place and the bush was its monument.
Three other monuments spired close to it, but these were greater. Not by size, but of share pose -they were of flesh and bone.
Their silver hair played gently in the breeze, their armor was dashed and their shields broken. Unmoving they were, like a troll watching the sun for the first time, frozen to stone.
There they stood, swords lowered to the ground, bloodied, dented, shining in the crimson-set sky of the dawning sun. A fire flickered in their eyes, wet with the emotional beauty of it all, yet dejection and loss fought to kill that hopefull flame burning inside them.
Firm they stood, even though their lips trembled with exhaustion, wicked wounds pained their bodies and death pulled at their souls. They would not yield, would not allow themself to sit down and rest. They would not let the peacefull sleep of death lure them into its seducing entrapment.
"Beautiful..." Bandolas whispered through clenched teeth, for his wickedly wounded chest was bloodied by the blood of many, yet most of it his own. He fell to the ground, limply, as the last seed of life left his body.
The vast plain was filled with bodies, the ground muddied with blood, light danced on the uncountable plates of armour and weapons laying sprawled and broken. A war of pride and honor, of land and kingdom. True heroes they were, those two still standing. True servants of their king and country...
"Be at peace, brother." Berandor whispered. He was the least wounded of the remaining, yet his sword the most bloodied. "You have earned your right among the gods this night."
On the northern end of the plain grassland, whiteclad riders were approaching. They held banners high, banners that flowed and weaved in motion with the wind. The silver-enlaiden silk reflected the flickering beams of the sun and produced a mesmerizing display of greatness and mystery. A grand sight to behold for the elven warriors, who stood there lonely in the middle of the great grassland. They were struggeling more now than they had ever before; -struggeling the strange taste in their mouth and the clump in their throats, struggeling the tears in their eyes and the tremble at their lips.
Honor and pride, exquisite and loss, emotiones too gravious to struggle.
"So they came at last..." Berandor whispered. "The reinforcements."
"So it seems, but too long did it take our messangers to reach their land." Felandil sighed through his pain. "And too long did it take our friends to come back. How the count of loss could have changed by so many with only a few days, if we only had predicted..."
He released a mournfull cry of pain as he fell to his knees, both hands resting at the pommel of his sword, pierced into the ground before him. His head sunk to his chest slowly. "Mother of all, take me in your arms, bring me to your eternity," he whispered, then he fell to his side, sprawled beside his sword. He stared emptily at the blue sky above him, a peaceful smile set on his whitening lips.
"Rest in peace brave warrior." Berandor whispered as the riders caught up with him. Their white beauty glowed as the sun shone on their backs, their proud steeds walked gracefully and their heads were held high.
Berandor did not behold their greatness. He walked right through their ranks, towards the forrest on the other side, towards his home, the kingdom of Ethalas, the Silverwoods of Kanatas. He cared little for allies now, they had come too late...
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Thanks for reading...
Anyway, I wrote this to Hans Zimmer & Lisa Gerrard - The Gladiator Theme. It is so beautiful, and I tried to catch the mood and strong emotion of that song in my text. Ah, that wasn't easy...
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The beauty of it all
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A great grassland displayed into view as the crow shifted easily on the wind and settled at the perch of a scorched bush. The bush was set in the middle of this vast grassland, and there it stood triumphantly, as if history had been written at this place and the bush was its monument.
Three other monuments spired close to it, but these were greater. Not by size, but of share pose -they were of flesh and bone.
Their silver hair played gently in the breeze, their armor was dashed and their shields broken. Unmoving they were, like a troll watching the sun for the first time, frozen to stone.
There they stood, swords lowered to the ground, bloodied, dented, shining in the crimson-set sky of the dawning sun. A fire flickered in their eyes, wet with the emotional beauty of it all, yet dejection and loss fought to kill that hopefull flame burning inside them.
Firm they stood, even though their lips trembled with exhaustion, wicked wounds pained their bodies and death pulled at their souls. They would not yield, would not allow themself to sit down and rest. They would not let the peacefull sleep of death lure them into its seducing entrapment.
"Beautiful..." Bandolas whispered through clenched teeth, for his wickedly wounded chest was bloodied by the blood of many, yet most of it his own. He fell to the ground, limply, as the last seed of life left his body.
The vast plain was filled with bodies, the ground muddied with blood, light danced on the uncountable plates of armour and weapons laying sprawled and broken. A war of pride and honor, of land and kingdom. True heroes they were, those two still standing. True servants of their king and country...
"Be at peace, brother." Berandor whispered. He was the least wounded of the remaining, yet his sword the most bloodied. "You have earned your right among the gods this night."
On the northern end of the plain grassland, whiteclad riders were approaching. They held banners high, banners that flowed and weaved in motion with the wind. The silver-enlaiden silk reflected the flickering beams of the sun and produced a mesmerizing display of greatness and mystery. A grand sight to behold for the elven warriors, who stood there lonely in the middle of the great grassland. They were struggeling more now than they had ever before; -struggeling the strange taste in their mouth and the clump in their throats, struggeling the tears in their eyes and the tremble at their lips.
Honor and pride, exquisite and loss, emotiones too gravious to struggle.
"So they came at last..." Berandor whispered. "The reinforcements."
"So it seems, but too long did it take our messangers to reach their land." Felandil sighed through his pain. "And too long did it take our friends to come back. How the count of loss could have changed by so many with only a few days, if we only had predicted..."
He released a mournfull cry of pain as he fell to his knees, both hands resting at the pommel of his sword, pierced into the ground before him. His head sunk to his chest slowly. "Mother of all, take me in your arms, bring me to your eternity," he whispered, then he fell to his side, sprawled beside his sword. He stared emptily at the blue sky above him, a peaceful smile set on his whitening lips.
"Rest in peace brave warrior." Berandor whispered as the riders caught up with him. Their white beauty glowed as the sun shone on their backs, their proud steeds walked gracefully and their heads were held high.
Berandor did not behold their greatness. He walked right through their ranks, towards the forrest on the other side, towards his home, the kingdom of Ethalas, the Silverwoods of Kanatas. He cared little for allies now, they had come too late...
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Thanks for reading...