Post by opossum on Nov 7, 2013 4:22:34 GMT -8
Scrawling, skittering. The events today having left their mark upon our Poor poor hero of the story. The good, the valiant, The Greedy; Pyral Sudaruska. " Can't believe I lost all that!~" he says to no one in particular, beginning his nesting period of the night, soft beautifully dreaming slumber to encompass his thoughts," Lost a lot of it! A LOT!" he lets out again to the walls," But not you...no..." he lets out, reaching to his pocket, grasping at a rather shiny, glass-like pocketknife. Setting it aside him, like a treasured friend come to stay the night. Grasping for the leather-bound tome he often writes and tracks his knowledge of his own species within....he taps his chin. Grasping for a pen...a few things flying here or there off of his night-stand...well..more like a pile of blankets near his corner bedding. AHh! Got one. He begins to try his best at poetry...a new...spark, so to say, lifting his spirits as he creatively pours his thoughts down upon the paper of the book:
" With inspiration from above take heart
and strive with certain aim to reach the mark.
the work which thou expectest to perform,
will bring the easily great joy and gain
when soul and body thou dost beatify
with chasteness, fasts, and purity of mind,
avoiding life's distractions and, alone
in prayerful service, giving praise to a God,
entreating it with supplicating hands,
to grant thee grace and knowledge from above,
that though, O mystic, may'st more quickly know
how from one species to complete this work...
thy Body Mortify by serving a god:
Thy soul torn assunder by their godliness,
So shalt though never have thy wish
To do or think, a thing that is against their will,
For the strength of your mind, is a foul thing,
Sagacious reasoning, and prudent thought abound.
All passions purified and washed away,
the stain of carnal joys not follow, by the flow of tears,
which blood thy has weeping eyes revealing thus,
the pain and anguish that is to follow a god's heart.
Mind well their fire, and the judgement day, for
under the watchful eye, we are but sheep to the slaughter.
So go ahead, live though deservedly, may'st see, pretend there is no shadow in the light,
And every second, let slip from thy lips, the tuneful praise,
of the choirs of angles unto your god most high,
who rules above with absolute power,
Fear the father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost, for
all eternity, and endless time, Forever and forever more. "
Truly an odd, and historic little jot of mind-spew from a very interestingly sought after, and illusive creature. The Apasum treasure this glorious Book, though one would hope they all have a copy of it...or should in the future," Yes. That was fun. VEeeeeEEeeerrry fun. " he tosses the pen elsewhere into the room again," Weeeird thoughts. Weird. Weird thoughts..." he trails off....before snoring rather impeccably loudly within the home and his nest.
" With inspiration from above take heart
and strive with certain aim to reach the mark.
the work which thou expectest to perform,
will bring the easily great joy and gain
when soul and body thou dost beatify
with chasteness, fasts, and purity of mind,
avoiding life's distractions and, alone
in prayerful service, giving praise to a God,
entreating it with supplicating hands,
to grant thee grace and knowledge from above,
that though, O mystic, may'st more quickly know
how from one species to complete this work...
thy Body Mortify by serving a god:
Thy soul torn assunder by their godliness,
So shalt though never have thy wish
To do or think, a thing that is against their will,
For the strength of your mind, is a foul thing,
Sagacious reasoning, and prudent thought abound.
All passions purified and washed away,
the stain of carnal joys not follow, by the flow of tears,
which blood thy has weeping eyes revealing thus,
the pain and anguish that is to follow a god's heart.
Mind well their fire, and the judgement day, for
under the watchful eye, we are but sheep to the slaughter.
So go ahead, live though deservedly, may'st see, pretend there is no shadow in the light,
And every second, let slip from thy lips, the tuneful praise,
of the choirs of angles unto your god most high,
who rules above with absolute power,
Fear the father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost, for
all eternity, and endless time, Forever and forever more. "
Truly an odd, and historic little jot of mind-spew from a very interestingly sought after, and illusive creature. The Apasum treasure this glorious Book, though one would hope they all have a copy of it...or should in the future," Yes. That was fun. VEeeeeEEeeerrry fun. " he tosses the pen elsewhere into the room again," Weeeird thoughts. Weird. Weird thoughts..." he trails off....before snoring rather impeccably loudly within the home and his nest.