View source for Lament of a young Serpent

[[Category:Bardic Merit Awards]][[Category:2006 Bardics]]
By: Hieyoko
Posted on: February 12, 2006


Our author here is understood to be a young, mhun serpent, freshly graduated
from Loom Island. With a slight bloodlust and an eagerness to explore, he set
off on his travels, only to be strongly thrown back into reality. These poems
were taken from the young serpent's journal, recovered from the side of a ditch
on the Prelatorian Highway. They have been titled by myself, to allow the reader
a more firm grasp on the topic of each section of poetry.


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Stanza one - A Hatchling's Woe<br>

I sneak off Loom still high on pow'r<br>
From the Fountain, then see a Tower…<br>
While Lady Sol allows the night<br>
To reign, I go to test my bite.<br>
But when my fangs first taste an imp,<br>
He laughs! Then says, "You little whimp!<br>
Your venom sucks!" And with a sneer,<br>
He struck me; I ran off in fear.<br>
A housemate heard, but my hopes sunk<br>
When he said, "Want to bash? Go monk."<br>


Stanza two - Requiem of Scales<br>

I concentrate and close my eyes,<br>
And much to my sudden surprise,<br>
A new defence surrounds my skin!<br>
With scales like these, I'll surely win!<br>
So off I dash, past rock and tree,<br>
To find that imp that had mocked me,<br>
And with a smirk, my poisoned bite<br>
Hits once again! But then, my fright<br>
Compounds, because his counter-strike<br>
Still hurts! So I flee to the night.<br>
And as his mocking laugh does ring,<br>
"To you," I think, "your death, I'll bring."<br>


Stanza three - The Whip, and the Dirge<br>

My fangs appear to not be right -<br>
Their speed is fine, but damage slight<br>
Enough to leave a butterfly<br>
Unharmed. With these, I'll die.<br>
So with some extra gold, I spy<br>
A whip! Now that should get me by.<br>
So from the Steel Falcon I head,<br>
To render my nemesis dead.<br>
As I approach, he laughs a bit,<br>
Then I lash out… but do not hit.<br>
As frantically, I try to fight,<br>
Now not with whip, but with my bite,<br>
His sword runs through me, and I die<br>
With only him to hear my cry.<br>


Stanza four - Elegy: A pair of ends<br>

A blind rage clouds my vision now -<br>
This imp MUST die! I don't care how.<br>
As off to take revenge I storm,<br>
I brush away a tiny swarm<br>
Of gnats, and run o'er to the Flame.<br>
I think, "Two can play at this game."<br>
My fangs then dart into my arm,<br>
And I soon begin to feel warm…<br>
After the venom takes its toll,<br>
I am reborn, but as a troll!<br>
I plod to Certimene, mind set,<br>
And grunt, "That imp has got to get<br>
What's coming. Certimene, I quit<br>
As serpent! I can't take one hit!<br>
Make me a monk!" My muscles swell<br>
With my new power, and I yell<br>
In triumph, then I head to crush<br>
The skull of that old imp to mush.<br>
But as he dies, he coughs, "You fake…<br>
You couldn't make it as a snake."<br>
I stop to think upon this fact,<br>
But cannot make my mind react<br>
The way it used to… it feels… slow…<br>
And I'm not sure which way to go…<br>
I'm walking… down a road… I think…<br>
I feel myself… begin to sink…<br>
Into…<br>


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The remainder of the pages in the journal were incomprehensible scribblings,
smeared with drool and various other substances. Efforts to interpret the
continuing pages proved futile, as any writing recovered was little more than
incomprehensible scribbles... Every word, that is, save one, repeated fairly
often before also degenerating into aimless scratches...


"Mistake."