Daaskmere Monk

William of Meadowsford

Book Cover

arrowShawn Postoff

Copyright © 1997 - 2009
arrowInfinitive Ink Limited


XX ill title Fury Converges

The chaos dissolved what remained of the squads,
A frenzy of insects came we to the gods
As Daask the destroyer stood high o’er the fear,
And knew the bleak prospects his foes could not hear.
The warriors spread out to encircle the beast,
Attempting to find his defenses more creased.

But I was not with them, that chivalrous troupe,
For I did belong to a smaller, third group
That ran not away or straight forward to fight,

But rather stood frozen in awe and in fright.
A high pandemonium spread like a cloud,
It trembled the air with its terrible shroud,
And shortly as Daask was engaged by his foes,
There drifted toward me the sound of their woes:
The wail of surrender from just before death,
In harmony sung with a shriek from a breath
That hauntingly silenced before it was done,
Its pain was extinguished before it could run.
The battle was sounded with names intermixed,
As friendships were severed, I listened transfixed.
And sadness with wretched defiance was served,
I shuddered at carnage unjustly deserved.

I watched as the monster with effortless means
Created his ghastly and terrible scenes:
With powerful claws did he rip at his foes,
And tore through their armour to bloodier flows.
With sparks of dark anger and hot breath of flame,
He seared their bright spirits each place he did aim.
With arrowhead tail that flicked fast in the air,
He crunched through the bodies of any who’d dare
To enter as close as a lance would allow,
Attempting to fill their most recent-made vow.

The image a nightmare is played in my head --
So quickly had masses of life become dead.
And vainly in wide disbelieving I lurched,
For Meadowsford colours I desperately searched,
And looked for my master, for Wimstayme, for friends,
For any appeasement of meaning that sends.
But none from the valley were signaled to me.
I made an entreaty, a tear-drowning plea,
For someone, a god, or benevolent soul
To fly me away from this Hell’s deepest hole.
But nothing was offered, no simple escape,
Reluctant my lot was to witness that rape.
So utterly lonely my body was stripped,
As I with my armour more useless equipped,
Gazed down for my fam’ly, now lost in the throng
That hap’ly to legend did rightful belong.
But I, in my cowardice, watched from afar,
Now orphaned and jailed to a guiltier star,
To live out my days with a chance missed and gone
For sharing their glory of soldierly brawn.

And Daask was uncaring, before me he fought.
He ripped and he shredded their bravery wrought.
He carved and he clawed and he killed and he crashed,
His tail was a weapon that slaughtered and slashed.

The horrible teardrops seared hot on my skin,
And helplessly paralyzed watching Daask win,
The anger within me gave way to a fear,
Confusion made war with a sadness more dear.
And slowly a quietness came o’er the field:
The battle was over, its victor revealed.