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Young Writers Society


Leaves Fall from the Rowan Tree



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Wed Apr 01, 2020 9:49 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



I almost feel like I have no right to be doing this, but what am I if not contrarian? I’ll endeavour to write a poem per day! If there is a theme, it will be entirely retrospective.

EDIT: It appears I decided on a theme after writing the first entry! It’s a topic I’ve been avoiding for months. The Universe is kind, and not without a sense of humour.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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Wed Apr 01, 2020 9:59 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



I shall wait, Dust, for you to settle.

Birdsong and an extended note —
The herald of heartache and hope.

I watched you stand:
In golden sunlight,
In drifting snow,
In determined shadow.

You stood.
You fell.
You left.

Ash kneels before a black strawhat
And two roses, cyan and red.

I shall hold my vigil.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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293 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 17344
Reviews: 293
Wed Apr 01, 2020 10:43 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



Rain falls under a cloudless sky.

I’m so, so sorry.
I said it would be soon,
But soon has come and gone.
Later has come and gone.

You deserve better.

I watched you die three deaths:
Vengeance, vanity, and valour,
Guided by will and fate alike.
Nobody needed to ask.

You deserved better.

We did everything right!
Everything we were supposed to…
But you were called.
Well, I’m calling too!

Don’t we deserve better?
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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293 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 17344
Reviews: 293
Fri Apr 03, 2020 9:59 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



Water scatters and reflects.

Mistress of that which gives life,
Blinded by her love and hatred.
Mirror of that which brings death,
Averted by your strength and will.

A mirror shattered,
A shattered mirror…
Revealed.

With mercy-tempered justice,
We stilled the storm, banished madness;
With wisdom-borne confusion,
She recognised still greater gales.

A haze lifted,
A lifted haze…
Promised.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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Gender: Male
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Sat Apr 04, 2020 9:41 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



You knew hesitation, but not in that moment.

At first, a venture into the unknown.

Noble.
Foolish.

The darkness loomed,
But hope led on.

Later, a discovery of wonder.

Stunning.
Humbling.

The darkness fled,
But truth did too.

At last, a promise to the innocent.

Solemn.
Selfless.

The darkness bowed,
But you stood tall.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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Sun Apr 05, 2020 2:13 am
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alliyah says...



You have a very concise way of writing, where the reader just gets bits and pieces of a bigger story - I think my favorite so far is your opening couplet,
Birdsong and an extended note —
The herald of heartache and hope.


- such solid lines to start the month with!
you should know i am a time traveler &
there is no season as achingly temporary as now
but i have promised to return
  





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Sun Apr 05, 2020 6:57 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



My prose has a tendency towards being verbose and long-winded, so I'm very happy to hear your feedback, @alliyah! And yeah, the overarching story is what I'll be addressing over the span of the month, though I write parts as feels appropriate.

This is the first time I've ever consistently written any poetry, so it's massively encouraging to see people respond positively to it! (Mark Twain's quote at the bottom of the page about kindness being the language the deaf can hear and the blind can see, is fitting.)
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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293 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 17344
Reviews: 293
Sun Apr 05, 2020 9:25 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



I am lost.

I have so many words for you,
Yet they feel…
Lacking.

I suppose I may say
I was born with a crown,
And though that is true,
Though some call me regal,
It shines copper, not gold,
And my kingdom
Is of one.

I still hold my title,
But I lack a throne —
I never truly had one.
The people expected
A glorious reign,
Like that you’d see
In the fantasy novels I read.
The deposition came quickly
When reality turned out to be
Too much.

I’m content in my castle of sorrow.
After all, shouldn’t a child of winter befriend the rain
When the sun has little love for him?

I am my own knight.



You came to me on the day I finally ascended —
The day the world recognised me as sovereign.
(The day of the emperor, no less.)
We only met after midnight,
For wolves are nocturnal creatures,
Lone or not.
You didn’t mind.

My harlequin knows me well;
You captivated me in an instant.
He meant to bring colour to my life,
But even he could not predict
How bright my days with you would be —
How drab my days without.

Your journey was my own.
My journey was my own.

You understood me like no-one else,
And I understood you like no-one else,
Yet…
Do we know each other?
Truly?

You must realise I miss you,
But you must also realise why I stay away.

Grey dawn lamented your passing
And promised your return.
You healed the moon,
But the sky still grieves.

Seek me by the weeping stars.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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Gender: Male
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Sun Apr 05, 2020 11:24 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



You stood silently, so I cried in your stead.

We came upon a lonely swingset,
A seat empty, a seat broken.
Quiet flakes drifted down,
Caressed by a sombre breeze.

I had yet to see a more profound sight.

Forlorn ruins whispered of punished empathy;
Loyalty denied was existence sacrificed.
Our passage led us to a looming memory,
Though it seemed a house as deserted as the rest.

You had yet to feel a more chilling pull.

None knew why you hide your eyes,
But I love you all the more for it.
When I followed you up those stairs, then,
I was stunned to meet your silver gaze.

They whispered to you:
The murdered child, the slain assassin.
We learned the truth,
And your pain received a name.

Light flickered through a frozen window,
Illuminating a wretched being.
You replaced your hat,
Concealing your face once more.

We have yet to share a more haunting ache.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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Tue Apr 07, 2020 9:59 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



Some are more than flesh and bone.

Light and dark meld in a striking figure:

Blessed with the purity of a pristine sky,
Bright and free as a vernal dawn;
Burdened with the sin of the old earth,
Grim and secretive as an autumnal dusk.

Shaped with the frame of a slender fox,
Graceful and agile as the playful wind;
Entrusted with the resolve of a dauntless hunter,
Inexorable and deadly as a furious storm.

Draped in the colours of duelling voices,
Inspiring and formiddable as a shining sword;
Swathed in the mystery of distant veils,
Elusive and patient as a hidden dagger.

Peace and war mingle in a tired spirit.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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Gender: Male
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Wed Apr 08, 2020 9:40 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



Some thoughts need not be spoken to be heard.

You stand, scarlet fruit in hand,
Contemplating what I might only guess.

Do you fear temptation,
Unsure whether you would resist,
But certain you cannot yet know?

Do you seek knowledge,
Unfamiliar with the world around you,
Yet concerned as if it were your own?

Or do you seek guidance,
Unaware of what what lies ahead
And ignorant of what lies within?
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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293 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 17344
Reviews: 293
Wed Apr 08, 2020 10:09 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



We wake on a misty morning.

I cannot think of a single soul
Who embodies pensiveness
Quite as well as you do.

You stare into space,
Quiet as a breath and
Distant as the moon.

But then, my gaze catches yours
And the corners of your lips
Creep towards the sun.

I avert my eyes,
Vainly trying to mask
The fondness in my grin.

Neither can I think of anyone
Who embodies deliverance
Quite as well as you do.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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293 Reviews



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Reviews: 293
Fri Apr 10, 2020 9:58 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



Hope is a heavy burden to carry when not one’s own.

Hearts race as the pass nears,
For two collosi stand abreast —
Ancient sentinels guarding against
Enemies no longer of this world.

Our ascension leads to a mystic ally,
The crumbling guards, now a bridge
Between earth and heaven,
Uplifted in their disrepair.

As we climb, the land diminishes,
Reality put in perspective
By time-remembered acts
And the will of the divine.

An outstretched arm and index finger
Point north, to destiny yet unknown;
Though we shall return this way,
A leap of faith awaits all the same.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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293 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 17344
Reviews: 293
Sat Apr 11, 2020 9:59 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



Music plays in the winds of passing.

I harbour a suspicion,
Though I cannot be sure,
That your mind turns clear
When you let phantom memory
Lead you in your dance along the
Thread of life, ripping open, in awesome
Arcs and turns and leaps, that which was stitched
Together so delicately and tenderly by hands
We can always feel but never see,
Realising only upon steps ceased
That you moved to the minor
Contrary to the weaver’s
Major, now silent.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  





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293 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 17344
Reviews: 293
Sun Apr 12, 2020 9:59 pm
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BrumalHunter says...



Was Elysium not sheltered in the bowels of Erebus?

Even a goddess can feel awe.

In reverent tones, she spoke of
Land cleansed by a cloud of steam,
Life wrought by a storm of dust.
Fire and water, wind and earth,
Sired in ether’s sacred womb.

But what is the void’s indifference
When compared to the march of ruin?
And what is preservation in death
When ashes do not return to ashes —
Again an entity, though bleeding cinders?

Diligence blessed or vanity cursed;
A paradise gifted unto eternity,
Or perdition extended until stars fade?
Rain wraps its cold embrace around he who
Strains to see the fortune in commanding fate.

Even a goddess can feel awe.
But the Fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.
— Paul the Apostle

Winter is inevitable. Spring will return eventually, and AstralHunter with it.
  








Besides, if you want perfection, write a haiku. Anything longer is bound to have some passages that don't work as well as they might.
— Philip Pullman