The Life of a Bardic Entrant -

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By: Kirrh Posted on: May 29, 2006

The Bardic contest is once again knocking at my door
And I'm no better off now than the I was the month before
I've no more inspiration, no sparkle in my mind
But still a decent entry topic I must somehow find

I would write of my magic... but I am a knight
I would write of my battles... but I cannot fight
Can I let another month's competition pass me by
While I'm forced to admit I did not even try?

I could write of Zsarachnor, Azdun's great lord
Teaming up with Yudhishthira and his wyvern horde
They would maim Belladona, the vampire dame
And to the Aunt, they would do just the same

Their terror would reign from the hills to the sea
As they slaughtered with efficiency and with much glee
Rivers would run red with the blood they would drain
Because all of it even Zsarachnor's great self can't contain

They would scour the cities and sever all life
As cleanly as channels when faced with a knife
The forests would burn from the great dragon's fire
And for all of Sapience become a funeral pyre

Havoc and horror would revel where they were at
But I can't think of any plot to go after that

I could write a great history of my city and home
From its wide, rutted streets to its gold palace dome
A tale of the great dedication of Sahart
Even as he and Glanos were pulled apart

I would tell of the Basilica and the Church it houses
Of the Light and Righteousness that it espouses
The fading Codex and growing rapport
But really, it's all been said before

I could write of the Evil of Mhaldor, the Scourge
And the hideous corpse that bridges their gorge
As they murder innocents and kill the meek
Slaughter their enemies and weed out the weak

The Tyrannus their leader in their Evil powers
While they train their dark arts in their spires and towers
Rituals, torture, sacrifices to the Lords
All the time seeking greatness and greater rewards

The tale of an orphan, in a cruel turn of fate
Kidnapped by a scheming, twisted Apostate
Carried off to Mhaldor and there so abused
But that's so very common, so commonly used

City life is boring, I'm too stressed to explore
There's nothing I can write about outside my door
I could make something up, but that would be far too droll
Not to mention I'd write myself into a hole

People always say you should write what you know
Well then, my dears, there you go!