Poem... Dream of Dreams

[Greg Pappas]

I hope that this is a good place to share poetry... seems appropriate.

The following is in my book, Whispers, Shadows & Dreams, and is a fantasy poem. My first epic, almost entirely set to rhyme.

Dream of Dreams
(The Rhyme of Faer’lan)

Moving quickly, as a summer storm
Dreams happen upon me this way
Majestic creations of color and form
Vying for attention, like children at play

And when I lay me down to sleep,
I dream of dreams from memories
Of faerie tales and beautiful girls,
and medieval fantasies

And just last night, I had such a dream
That blew my mind, from the imagery
An epic tale to traverse all time
Of a magic Kingdom, told through rhyme

I’ll recall it now, ‘fore it slips away
So sit back... relax... and enjoy, okay?

~~~~~~~~

Deep into history, and deeper into past
A kingdom was built on an Island to last
A fortress of gold surrounded the land
Forged by Dwarves with kiln-worn hands

They were the expert builders of legend and lore
An ancient race from distant shores
They came hired to construct the perfect shield
It encompassed the Island and the Kingdom was sealed

The Good King deemed that the people must choose
For the realm needed naming, and he hadn’t a clue
The people selected, giving the Good King a smile
‘Faer’lan’ ‘twas named, in ancient tongue: ‘Emerald Isle’

So Faer’lan ‘twould be, and the Good King decreed
The Kingdom be titled, and forever shall it be
The people rejoiced in a festive celebration
For their Kingdom was born, they’d created a nation

But Lord Zsaeth was not pleased, he deemed Faer’lan a disease
A threat to his neighboring Island state
And he gazed out his window as he got down on his knees
Praying to Čhuhl, the Dark Demon of Hate

A swirling tunnel of red appeared close to his bed
A horror stepped from the portal holding chains
“Know that he who prays to me doth tempt end of days,
to be forever shackled in torturous pains!”

Lord Zsaeth lowered his head, and with cracked voice said,
“My Lord Čhuhl doth honor my call.
I’ll waste not your time, but I have wish for a crime
that I know will benefit us each and all.”

Lord Čhuhl smiled in his own unique style
Then walked before Zsaeth and said
“Rise and tell me this... whither dread bliss?
How might you offer me the dead?”

Zsaeth knew that evil souls were put in Čhuhl’s hold
The more the merrier, he was told
“My Lord Čhuhl, what I offer you is war
My armies and Faer’lan’s, souls galore!”

“But I ask of you two things; First a sickness,
thrust upon Faer’lan, the most terrible ever witnessed
And second; a gateway into their land to pass,
to avoid the shield, so my armies can mass.”

Čhuhl replied, “I will leave you with this, a reminder of tonight...”
And he punctured Zsaeth’s hands as he held the man tight
Blood streamed from the open wounds, but Zsaeth held his tongue
“Agony awaits you Pathetic One, if this war is not begun.”

“I’ll flail your flesh and crush every bone. Oh trust me this is true.
Break not our deal, or your fate is sealed... and I’ll come back for you.”
The tunnel appeared and Čhuhl stepped in, then finally he faded away
Although tears did flow, Zsaeth did know his plan was under way

Back in Faer’lan, while the Kingdom did sleep
A shadowy ill spread throughout the land
And when the sun did rise, ‘twas not a surprise
Many succumbed to the treachery at hand

Some died in the night, the very young and the aged
And the Good King knew they’d been struck with a plague
He called for his council, though they were all sick as well,
But they had to act quickly to face down this hell

But they could find no cure, and time was fleeting
So the Good King decided to call forth a meeting
“Tell all my people to come here this day.
We must pull us together and find us a way.”

A sick nation was rallied to the castle in haste
Then the Good King spoke to all, of what they faced
But no one had answer as the sun set down
‘Til a young lady spoke of a well that she found

“Of what well do you speak? How might it help our plight?”
the Good King queried at the dawn of the night
“My family’s unscathed, and we may have the cure,
by drinking from a well with water magically pure.”

“It may be the reason we’re healthy, while you’re ill.
And there’s plenty with so many cups to fill.”
The Good King nodded and bid it be so
Asking as many as could travel to hurry and go

They at last had hope, though time was slipping away
Some died on the trek, the rest continued to pray
The young lady led them through mountains and streams
Then the sun rose and uncovered The Valley of Dreams

She was at home, living in valley below
And yelled to all they hadn’t far to go
The masses of Faer’lan marched on as one
Down into the vale, their quest nearly done

Back at the Castle, the Good King was in decline
Fallen, bedded by plague, he was nearly out of time
The fate of he and the nation rested in the traveler’s hands
And he laid quite helpless, not truly in command

But the plague was not all that the Kingdom faced
As Zsaeth’s armies rushed through the portal gates
They came onto the island with evil intent
To destroy all resistance, and unchallenged they went

They killed the already dying they found on their way
As they centered their attention on the Castle this day
And dark smiles became the face of Lord Zsaeth
He was conquering his enemy, he was bringing them death

A few soldiers joined the healers, gathering around the Good King
And as they waited for the inevitable, they began to sing
A song of hope, of love and of dreams
And they sang aloud for all, to drown out the screams

For now they came, the armies of the foul Lord
Murdering all that resisted, by arrow and sword
The Castle was breached as the few sang strong
And then a sound was heard... it rang loud and long

Horns blew from the heavens, or so it seemed
Out the windows the few gazed, their eyes disbelieved
The Travelers returned, just as the walls came down!
And the Good Kings armies rallied all around!

The water was passed quickly around to the ill
And the magic within healed them quicker still
A miracle it was to those at Death’s door
For it gave them the chance to fight the evil horde

And on this day as the Sun set high,
as the rays fell down upon the armies outside,
a battle ensued between good forces and bad
The sounds of war driving the sanest men mad

The Good Kings armies fought with valor and scorn
And drove back the intruders, though outnumbered and worn
But Zsaeth’s armies were many and would not be beat
They pushed Faer’lan’s heroes back to the brink of defeat

Like the sands in the hourglass, time had run out
There was nowhere to go, it was becoming a rout
Barely half of the enemy, the Good armies kept trying
And all seemed lost, all hope was dying

But alas! Amidst hopelessness, faith was restored
For the Good King arose and called for his sword
The sickness was waning, his strength was returning
He flew to the front lines, as the Castle was burning

But the fire within him burned hotter still,
his eyes were ablaze in a rage set to kill
He tore through Zsaeth’s men with an undeniable goal
His unyielding fury wrought a terrible toll

Zsaeth’s legions fled to the portal battered and confused
They ran for their lives, and Lord Zsaeth was not amused
He tried desperately to turn them back to fight,
he yelled at them all, with all his might

But to no avail, for his call fell on deaf ears
And he stood there alone to bear witness the cheers
The Kingdom was saved, thanks to a young lady and Great King
Who overcame the dark treachery that Lord Zsaeth did bring

Zsaeth whirled away in disgust, “I’ll return!” he vowed
But the portal gates shook violently and thunderously loud
Zsaeth quivered in fear, for out came Čhuhl
Zsaeth got on his knees, trying to play the fool

“Yes my Lord, what brings you here and now?” he stuttered
“Aren’t you pleased with the souls I sent?” he muttered
With sharpened fangs dripping blood, Čhuhl took in Zsaeth’s measure
And tore Zsaeth up off the ground to show Zsaeth his displeasure

Čhuhl shook his head, side to side, saying “Some men never learn.
When you make a deal with a devil, you always get burned.
You failed to give me enough souls, my calculations came up one short.”
And cries of agony were the last sounds heard from the foolish evil Lord

And I awakened, amazed and mesmerized
...by the dream

[olehippi]

Greg....a wonderfully magical epic poem. Seriously good.....