Hidden Sanctuary 5

Read from the beginning here: https://wanderingpoems.blog/hidden-sanctuary-archive/

We stood once again on the battlefield, that gruesome image that would never leave my memory, never. I want to call it bloody, but the truth is there wasn’t a drop of blood to be found. The people had just keeled over and died.  

“We should bury them—I should bury them—but…” 

“You’d never finish,” Doctor Cynical cut Rhyme off. Cynical was much more experienced at dealing with this kind of thing then Rhyme was. His life had been marred by the marks of tragedy. I only knew a little bit about his past—but I knew enough.  

“Rhyme, you have no reason to trust us. But I want to ask you if you would be willing to help us?” the Doctor asked after a brief, but necessary pause.  

“Are you sure you want to trust a human who sided with the elves?” I couldn’t tell she was seriously asking or being somehow sarcastic. Her voice was flat and somehow detached from the choices she had made that had brought her to that point in her life. Brine growled at her in protest. “I know,” she said in response to the growl—as though she understood what it meant—maybe she did.  

“I know exactly how your feeling Rhyme,” the doctor said. “But it’s not your fault, and no matter how much you beat yourself up over everything, no matter how much you call yourself a traitor. Not a single one of these people are going to come back to life.”  

“What do you need my help with?” She let the question be her response. And it was just as well, there would be plenty of time to discuss our feelings later.   

“The weapon that did this—we need to stop it,” the words sounded simple enough as I spoke them. But the enormity of the task loomed before us. Just as dark and depressing as the sight of the battlefield we were looking over. 

“Can we head back to that sanctuary place?” Rhyme asked. “I need to clear my head.” 

 We all probably needed to clear our heads, it certainly would do me good. So, I raised my wings into the air and a portal opened back to the Sanctuary, and we all stepped through.  

Cynical’s monster friend was waiting for us on the other side. Ahh yes, I haven’t yet introduced you to her. Cynical’s monster was a Machine and bug class monster that he called I.S it was a large mechanical spider that stood about three feet off the ground. Its eight legs where folded underneath her body as she waited patiently for her Linker to return. I don’t know why Cynical insisted on not letting I.S see the battle field. We needed her help and sooner or later she would understand how much life had been lost. Cynical greeted her by petting her head and thanking her for being patient. Rhyme also pet the mechanical monster as she passed by, humming at it as she did. I had no idea why at the time, but I.S seemed to like it as she clicked and chirped in response.  

I took to my stone perch, and the doctor and Rhyme sat on the grass nearby. It crossed my mind that if I was going to have so many humans living nearby again, I should probably get some chairs set up near my perch. But that was a minor worry, for a different day.  

“You mentioned a weapon Phex,” Rhyme started. “But I didn’t see anything that looked like a weapon.” 

“We don’t know what the weapon even looks like only that there has to be one somewhere. People don’t just die like that that for no reason,” I explained. 

“That’s not the only reason,” Cynical said, interrupting my thoughts. “I used to work for the Machine King, and I know he was working on a big project of some kind, something dangerous.”  

Cynicals admission that he had worked for the Machine King prompted a straight judgmental stare from Rhyme. My guess that Cynical knew more than he was letting on proved right. And now that matters had escalated to much, he had to tell us what he knew, or risk having us be thrown into a dangerous situation without all of the information. The Doctor was a rational man after all, even if sometimes he liked to pretend, he wasn’t.   

“I don’t know exactly the form this weapon takes, but the only way everything we’ve seen makes sense, is if he is using the technology, I gave him, man-made monsters….”   

Sol of my Soul

Sol of my soul, light of the flame within me, you have the power to render a hundred forests to ashes.

Sol of my Soul, you are the ground, solid and ever steady beneath my feet, but if you anger, cities will fall like the futile works they are.

Sol of my Soul, you are the ever-flowing water of my pure hart, and from if you shall see, all shall be drowned in my sadness.

Sol of my Soul, you are frigid from the many heart brakes I have endured, and you breathe this air onto my foe so that they too may feel the cold sting of my hurt.

Sol of my Soul, you are the darkness that makes man and beast, though beast man may be, tremble and cower on their knees, do not underestimate me.

Sol of my Soul, you are the light within me the pure essence that I was born with and will die with though I may hurt people I will never be truly dark, and you represent a gift still sleeping within me.

Sol of my Soul, you are the wind within me, the bringer of flight, that my soul be not tied down, you are the everlasting wind that can be my guide and my will in life. Yes you are the power of wind within me the power of my sol my true light not merely light, but the power of my emotions that will guide me in the future.

But that is only my light. What is yours and will you let your emotions guide you?

State of the Blog Journal 8/14/19

I’m starting to think maybe I should just start calling these Blog Journals instead of the long name State of the Blog Journal–like I’m trying to be technically correct or something. Blog Journal will probably work just as well form now on.

Computer Issues

Late last week I went to turn on my desktop computer and electricity shoot out of the back. It looks like the motherboard is fried, but luckily for all of you I keep all my writing stored on a cloud server so nothing really effects anything here. But I order another computer, this time I decided to get a laptop. I’m a pc gamer so a desktop would have been a little better, but as a writer I think a laptop is better, so I ended up going with a gaming laptop. It should be here next week at the latest. In the meantime I’m writing this from my work computer. I do have a laptop at home but that’s mostly for my partner to use.

Poems and Stuff

This week I published a poem that was inspired by a video game. If you want you can try and guess what poem it is and what game it was inspired by. You don’t win anything if you get it right–well other then my admiration–so take that for however much you want.
Otherwise poem writing almost every weekday is going well, though I’m not sure for how long I’ll be able to keep this pass up without burning out. But I’ll never know if I don’t try at least.

Hidden Sanctuary resuming for now

I will post a chapter/episode of hidden sanctuary on Friday of this week. Hopefully people are enjoying that. Again I’m not sure how long I can keep up the rate of trying to post one of those a week. But I will let you know how that transpires.

Behind on Everything

So unfortunately due to my computer issues and things happening at my full time job, I’ve gotten a little behind, I think I’ll be fine for this week, but next week you might see one less poem or something like that during the week. Not a big deal I think, but I figured I should let you know.

What I’m playing and reading

I’ve not had a lot of time this week to read, play video games, or even listen to any news on NPR like I normally do. I really hate the feeling of not having any free time to do other things so I aim to fix this next week.

Alright have a good rest of your week everyone, until next week.

I; Believe

I, in truth, never thought it reasonable to believe; 
In strange things or odd tails of yore. 
Though I might have hoped that they were as they said; 
Real and not made up. 

But the fake and the freakish lives in us all. 
And beyond the veil of our lives. 
In the world of imagination. 
And in the world of spirits where such things writhe. 

The world is always more then it seems. 
But less than the fantastic would have you believe. 
So look beyond what your comfort perceives; 
And find what it is you really believe.