Young Writers Society

Yup, definitely not once a day, those Poems are probably come out in a very erratic manner.
I apologize in advance.
But the point is to beat the challenge no matter what, right? Well... Here's the first of my series: Fantasy Roys! Enjoy!

Poem 1: The Winged Pawn's Arrow
Upon this facet of the world, above the great sky,
A white expanse could be explored, for those ready to fly so high.
It was the mark of a world unheeded,
For no mere Earth Dweller could reach it .
It was a world of clouds, winds and mountain peaks,
In which only the bravest of birds would find what it seeks.
The world of Avalias, or so it was called,
Was home to unique creatures, airborne.
The Aveos, or so they were named,
Were the supreme rulers, if they remained
United against their numerous foes.
Wild beasts, furious winds and thunderous skies,
All were enemies, for those without keen eyes,
And trusty comrades to accompany.
But a new threat, courtesy of a mighty Earth Dweller,
Was coming, adding itself to the struggles yonder.
It was a castle in the sky, floating in obsidian heaven,
Spawning mechanical birds to catch the wings that had been given
To the flying masters of Avalias, who were now reduced to Pawns
In the eyes of their artificial hunters.
Many Aveos lost their beloved wings
And fell to the land of the Earth Dwellers.
Doomed to despair, the rebellious Pawns decided to shape an Arrow
That would transform their rising sorrow
Into the very weapon that would strike the castle in the sky
And bring back their right to fly.
Panzaro was the name offered to the new leader
Fated to become the fearsome slayer
That would finally guide the Aveos close by
To freedom.

I think I should just write shorter ones...
That aside, enjoy!


Poem 2: Overlord's Eighth Artifice
Once there was a robust land,
Dominated by unlikely rulers.
They sought to turn into gods,
And had made their conquered fields,
The cradle of their imagined creations.
But after a long time, they departed,
Eager to subdue new horizons to their will,
Leaving their exhausted nest behind.
A new Overlord arose,
Beacon of hope in the chaotic wasteland.
Seven disciples he had chosen,
To aid him in his quest,
For this ruler knew that conquering the world,
Was the only way to unify it,
And restore its former beauty.
However, close to the Overlord's circle,
Was a young boy, whose desire was to show
That he could become, to the other's disapproval
The mighty ruler's eighth pupil.
Like a mere underling he was treated,
And by all around him he was hated,
Including, or so he thought,
By the Overlord and father he cherished.
Full of grudge and sadness, the boy decided
To forge the kingdom he always wanted
In a secluded land, away from his suffering
So that he could learn from his mistakes
Or relish his glorious triumphs
And come back, proud and noble,
To find himself standing, no longer feeble,
Before those who had mistreated him,
Shining anew in the eyes of the ruler.
Thus began the bold wander
Of a young boy, whose only desire
Was to become a weapon for a leader of justice
Known as the Overlord's Eighth Artifice.


Yep, definitely writing shorter ones. I think I'mma spend those next days writing poems, because I'm so, freakin' late. (That one WAS fun to write though).