I am writing an epic poem. I asked on the discussion forum and was told to put it here. I have no title yet, but I have the whole story. I was going to write a novel, and I had like five chapters, but they stunk to high heaven. I had the idea to write it as a poem, because I like poetry better than prose, and it is supposed to satirize the whole "hero" mindset. It is supposed to sound cliche at the beginning. One quarter of the way through, the gods fall and everything stops rhyming. But I've said too much. Please, try to enjoy it.
Gods will come and gods will go
The gods above and gods below
The gods know something we don’t know
That gods will come and gods will go.
When it started, all was balanced
But there was no one watching, then
All we know, is what is written
Once it started, there were ten.
Ten for all and ten for each
Ten for now and ten for then
Ten to return to when they came
To keep the balance, ten
The Dogun of the land and sky
And heat and light and men
The Dogun of the world
The Dogun who were Ten
Their story starts at nothing
And starts at all, at once
So this will start with Aloisera
In the hottest of the months
She was a girl, with long brown hair
She lived within a wood
She could not tell you more than that
Or, that she understood
Her father Elnis, kept it so
He knew of gods, he knew, at least
The people called him priestly
And thus he was a priest
They had a town, it had no name
But it had something worth much more
There was a shrine, not too far off
With an inscription on the door
Forged of marble, which was odd
No other marble could be found
And subtle in its providence
As it sat upon the ground
They knew it well, and kept it neat
And gave to it their hopes and dreams
It gave to them its blessings and
Did them well in that, it seems.
If not for them the holy words
Would long be gone to wind and seed
It went unnoticed anyway
For very few knew how to read
Aloisera knew it well
Her father had made sure of that
He brought her there when she was young
And taught her letters as they sat
Little daughter read to me
The words upon the wall, he said
They have no meaning to you yet
You are still very small, he said
It tells us things of men of gods
The heroes like of yore, he said
To you I read it many times
Now read to me the ancient door.
Read to me the words of gods
As I have done before!
And the little girl intoned:
The Dogun have blessed this place
For the hands of heroes shall be raised in prayer
To pray to them upon this spot
To do what they are meant to do
To keep the balance
To bring glory to the people
And glory to the Dogun
Elnis smiled solemnly
And grasped her by the hand
Then Priest and daughter knelt in prayer
To satisfy the gods’ demand
They rose at last and got to leaving
But she never did forget
The words written upon the door
And the things words can beget
All introduced, and inducted
The characters the gods instructed
For six more years they’d have to travel
For rhyme and reason to unravel
