The bartender now red in the face Pulled out his sword under the bar that day With all of his might, sword to knife His sword snapped in two that night A sharp crack echoed, the crowd gasped in shock, The bartender staggered, frozen like a rock. His once-proud blade, now shattered in two, Lay lifeless and dull, where its shine once flew. The bartender looked at his sword Then grabbed a glass and poured He filled that glass to the brim "Where did you say you got that knife again?" His pride was shattered, his boast now thin, As he eyed the traveler’s mysterious grin. The air felt thick with secrets untold, A simple blade, worth its weight in gold. NE5 to G6 a simple fix?
Pulled out the knife made of metal He handed it over as he sat on a stool The bartender said, now watch you fool And tried to break the sturdy tool The bar fell silent, all eyes on the scene, The knife glinted sharp, its surface pristine. A relic, perhaps, from a faraway land, More than just steel forged by human hand. He tried with all his might The blade wasn't going to break tonight The more he tried the angrier he got He set the knife sideways on the tabletop His grip grew tighter, his breath came quick, But the knife stayed solid, his temper thick. He cursed under breath, his jaw clenched tight, Each moment felt longer, his grip full of spite.
The knife was enchanted, With magic, it's granted. Forged in a forge far away, Its strength would never decay. The knife was enchanted, With magic, it’s granted. A spell kept it strong, Through the night, all along. No matter the force or the fight, It stayed unbroken, pure light. A spell kept it strong, Through the night, all along. The magic was old, In the moonlight, it’s bold. The blade held its power, you see, A wonder for you and me. The magic was old, In the moonlight, it’s bold. Rook F8 to H8
I sit with you and watch you brew Nightly, potions, ale, and stew, The tale is old, the detail new, Seasoned with tears, some me, some you. I hurt, I ache, I can't believe, Others, too, great pain receive. It cannot be! I can't conceive of all the world without reprieve. And as I struggle to accept That pain's a plain, mundane concept, (Not punishment for the inept, Nor something dodged by the adept) I find it hard to comprehend You reach your hand out to a "friend" You hardly know. Yet we pretend, Play words, find Truths we can defend. We fly together, lost in the skies, - Companionship such a surprise - Onwards! Upwards! Still we rise! Laughing softly while time flies. As we conjure heavens so blue You call to you your worthy crew Standing together, though just a few, Staunch, we build the game anew.
It's sort of weird and strange sifting through the ashes of days past and coming across the old bone & the planks from all the old ships we've sailed..... Some of mine and some from you who knew this was what we'd do? where did we come from? where will it go? I do not know... and yet I was there on that road. We walked together and we sewed the threads of fate made out of gold And mythic purple blue. So many questions spring to mind So many crumbs for birds to find Only slowly can I see My mind creaks open, grudgingly A ghost ship sailing o're the Oceans Bringing eggs, fires, tea and potions *** I do not know the tales he tells My head is full of tiny bells That ring and ring and signal treasure Handed out in no mean measure I turn the stories round and round Faberge's creation to be found. Worlds of dream catch my attention What is real? Of what make mention?
For 20 years they told me "rest" They said that I was much too stressed They said that I must drink more tea And that bubble baths were good for me And to my shame I must admit It felt really good just to sit After all the years of awfulness. But in the end it made more mess. 😞 "The time is now" - I must do this "The death of hope" - much is amiss I will not rush. I will not fuss. I'll learn the tempo - breathe, not cuss 🥴 but with smooth rhythm and with rhymes I must make my days sublime I must get up off my ass And build a life that is first class And I see! Slow attrition Will beat me! So I'll stop I'll drink more tea And sit and play Then build my day Rook F8 to H8 This is great Thank you
On the table, carved in wood, An incantation, darkly stood. The stranger reads with solemn eyes, Words of power, ancient lies: "When the moon is swallowed whole, And shadows take the darkest toll, A white horse with silver shoes, Will walk at night, its path to choose, When traveler comes, a fate entwined, With dragons, death, and ingots mined." The stranger sips his poisoned draught, And waits in silence, cold and daft. For in this place of darkened lore, The traveler comes, and death walks before But now the black horse moves so slow C3 to E5, his knight in tow
In the shadows of "Potions of Ale", A stranger drinks, eyes sharp as nails. The air is thick, a rancid brew, With scents of blood and something new. The barkeep snarls, his gaze askew, He barks at guests, a foul-mouthed slew. Around the bar, the stench of rot, From spirits spilled and lives forgot. He looks for one not yet arrived, A traveler with secrets, thrice contrived. They speak of eggs that twitch and stir, Of dead men’s whispers, faint and slurred. There’s talk of farming, strange secrets kept, And of a man in black shoes who crept. She’s mentioned too, in whispers low, The one who watches where winds blow. A prophecy of dragon’s flame, A haven lost, a traveler’s name. Blackberries shroud the tale untold, In waiting, truths will soon unfold.
He set down the hide next to the traveling stand, "I told you I was your man!" The trader smiled, tipped his hat, Handed the traveller the knife. The traveller carved his mark deep and true, "Let no shadow pierce me through. Steel and stone may break and bend, But I am guarded till journey’s end." "They couldn't stab you in the back with that," The trader motioned the hide and laughed. The traveller smiled, asked for a drink— The trader stopped to think. "There's fresh water by the bar, About five miles, not that far. I go there when I need a sip And in the bar for a place to sit—" "Yet none have purchased a stick." NG6 black horse moves real quick
