Poems and Dreams of the Morganbach Tval the Wizard
is this loss of mine, I so close to me feel?
I feel a grievance sheding it's costume just out of my vision.
I hear a lone poet writing a requiem to me.
Why am I already so dead?
What is that clattering of horses houves?
A horses I see approaching.
The mare stares at me like to air had my body turned.
It's breath in the wintery eve
passing through me like I but a dream was.
Why do I feel so dead?
Again these corpses, why dost thou follow me?
What is it that I so wrongly hath done to thee.
I fear, for their death something presumes on me.
I have not killed these poor men - but what is it that tells other?
The voice in the wilderness - it screams as if it was
the voice of a god forgotten ages ago.
A god whose followers are but dust now.
I feel a vow - I feel I must pledge only to break it.
A devious load has been laid on me.
An Evil more sinister than the darkness of the accursed city
put to whole around me lurks beyond my vision.
I see the robes of the mind unfastened on the floor.
What is it that I feel so oblighted to fight?
rising from the depths.
Mighty god's of war
seaking human flesh.
Darkness spreading quickly,
covering sea and land.
Mortal weeping everywhere,
no aid from thought or act.
Land covered with blood,
corpses decorate my path.
My boots soaken with mud,
I see my land in flames.
God's of what are these,
who wreck are spread their wrath.
I see no light in this this,
this battle of old and new.
I take my sword and vow,
to a god more old than these.
I sacrifice my freedom,
to serve without regret.
In the inferno that surrounds me,
I feel no flame nor heat.
Shall the darken angels guide me,
In the name of God I slay.
Oh, rise my voice higher,
let it be heard.
Take me for thy champion,
and let me slay as thee.
Give me thy eternal darkness,
to spread thy holy seed.
I dreamt the dreams of the Ancients
I heard the drums of war.
The clattering of horses hoves
pounded the way to doom.
So came the warriors
the proud killers of the past.
Their eyes locked in hate
mind clouded with blood.
They walked the fields of gold
in iron glad armours of old.
The winds blew the bloody scent
the smoke filled my eyes.
They are the warriors of ages past.
They hunger for blood, for such is their life.
They return from eons thankfully forgotten.
They bring back the knowledge rightfully lost.
In their eyes, there is unworldly pain,
for they are from a time when our world had not began.
Red, hot, chilliness pours from their thoughts.
They are those who haunt are thoughts at night,
for we ones were them, they are now us.
They weep for their master, the man glad in black.
For the man, who wore darkness as a cloak, they lament.
In primordial blackness they seek our ages doom.
For they shall return, and our day shall come to a night - soon.
I feel the rain hitting my dead face.
It bounces of my lightless eyes.
It flows from my warmthless eye sockets.
Now - I'm dead.
This I have awaited for so long.
Now I will join my brothers in the battle of the warriors of the great dream.
I walk the same paths of those,
whose blood has so long ago flowed to the freezing ground.
I feel the emptiness infesting my mind.
I feel the joy of life leaving my body.
Oh, now I'm a true warrior.
And I shall return to ancient grounds to battle; to battle the enemy that
has always been here.
I return to the place I never left.
And I feel; I feel the knowledge returning, not the knowledge from the
dream I thouhgt to be life - but, from the life I thought to be dream.
I return to battle, to Lavondyss I race.
My city - oh, so beautiful. Its light shine, like stars of the ancient sky.
It's streets wind down towards the ancient harbour.
Now it's harbour eternaly laid in ice.
It's dock's shatterd in the wars; past.
Now I understand peace only to be the time betwin war.
Peace, I see to be, the time to prepair for war that certainly arrives.
We race to the battlements.
I see their weapons - cold, in the wintry eve; I see movement.
And then I am filled with joy, for here is now now is here.
I have returned, thus I shall stay.
The blood already flows, for the first wave have fallen; as the long grey
archers pour their half breading maddnes in the souls who attack us.
I have always returned, yet is this real?
Am I but dreaming?
The ancient warriors where are they, am but sleeping.
Oh, what sweeter dream would death be than to sleep but the dream of night.
For, would death wrap me in it's arms to fight, no, to fight yes.
I see - nothing.
I am but a dream my self, but who is this cruel being
who dreameth the dream of me.
For if I but dream be, what is my dream to me?
Oh, city behind the plains.
I see a mist raising before thee.
I see it consuming your great soaring towers.
It steadily pushes it's cold claws in to your flesh.
It, for aeons, has watched thou.
And now it has began.
Your skies loose their red glow.
Your walls, they loose their might -
the might that has held the invading legions away for ages.
Now, my dear city, you are at the mercy of
the night riding wolves that earlier used to prey those
foolish enough not to hide behind your walls.
Those small villages around you; now they are
the ones who house the greatest of men,
they are the ones who ride victoriously conquering -
of, alas for what have you fallen for?
The darkness has eaten you away;
the darkness that your ancestors called to worship their shadows.
Now the darkness is all you see; why did you fall from grace?
Why did you not see the terror rising in your catacombs?
Oh, do you see that you already are sinking - not into the earth, but into
Into the depths of immortal pain.
Oh city, turn thy face from darkness and cry mercy,
for yours isn't anymore the power to heal your wounds.
Oh city - burn you will, but it is yours to chose how.
With stars erased from my eyes, I feel life's blood escaping my body.
I am ancient, the language that my name was spoken in has died away aeons ago.
I was before time began - the time of those, so fortunate ones.
Theirs is a short life - yet filled with splendor.
Time can seem long when it has no end, mine has been forever
The stars that burnt violently at my birth have long grown cold.
I fear that shall be my demise also - no, that I hope.
I see a new civilization being built on the remnants of those who built theirs
Others, much further in their worldly pursuits, have fallen prey to time,
these whom I dwell amongst are no difference.
Oh, why has time left me behind?
I dread for the hope of death is a vain one.
Those so dear to me - I don't even recognize their burials anymore -
why does all change but me?
What a great great rouse has my life been.
For reason unknown to me, I was cursed with eternity.
And now as I hope for eternity to come and collect me,
I see it smiling as if wan was it's only delight.
I'm doomed, for now I know -
I am cursed to dwell here for aeons to come, and those who saw my
curse as their pleasure thought it not to be enough -
for now I posses the logic to see what is to come.
Oh, isn't it so that if one has been granted a sight of the future -
he has been cursed most severely, for
then he has lost his last salvation - hope.
Oh what is this accursed fate?
Why has this been bestowed on me?
If this mortal agony was not enough, what then is?
Oh thee who has made mine heart thine ally,
why such a grave mistake do?
Ones I had all of my mind,
now a part has been given to my soul.
That soul shalt do with it as it please,
for this heart of mine, has no wisdom in it.
Oh forsaken Gods, take this curse and shed thy light.
I will never serve mine soul right, for my soul hath left my body.
It now stands before me, ready to strike me down.
Oh farewell, unkind farewell, be no more mine father.
Oh shall all that is mine, be given to my heart, but rather then
to help, it shall die.
And the following I borrowed from a most excellent poet and a song writer,
sadfully long forgotten, praise to his soul where ever it be:
Love stood amazed at sweet Beauty's pain:
Love would have said that all was but vain,
And gods but half divine.
But when Love saw that Beauty would die,
He, all aghast to heavens did cry:
O Gods what wrong is mine!
Then his tears, bread in thoughts of salt brine,
Fell from his eyes like rain in sunshine,
Expelled by rage of fire.
Yet in such wise as anguish affords,
he did express in these last words
His infinite desire:
Are you fled, fair? Where are now those eyes,
Eyes but too fair, envied by the skies?
You angry Gods do know.
With guildless blood your scepters you stain;
On poor true hearts like tyrants you reign.
Unjust! why do you so?
Are you false gods? why then do you reign?
Are you just gods? why have you slain
The life of love on earth.
Beauty, now thy face lives in the skies.
Beauty, now let me live on thine eyes,
Where bliss felt never death.
Then from high rock, the rock of despair,
He falls, in hope to smother in the air,
Or else on stones to burst,
Or on cold waves to spend his last breath,
Or his strange life to end by strange death;
but Fate forbade the worst.
With pity moved, the gods then change Love
To pheonix shape, yet cannot remove
His wonted property.
He loves the sun because it is fair;
Sleep he neglects, he lives but by air,
And would, but cannot, die.
In the corner of my vision evil shades arise.
They succumb in to existence through dark primordial lies.
They feed on fabric of magic to turn us who use it to dust,
for to them the destruction of the art is their only lust.
Their shadows cast an aura of grief,
for as their day breaks they shall demand us for their fief.
Their ethereal hands they to gates so swiftly cast,
for theirs is the key to where I so glad would pass.
In the darkness it lurks. There it has been always.
It has watched me in every turn of my life.
And now, as my life is sipping away
I feel it even closer to my self.
It has seen me on those days that have been sunny,
it has seen me when it was dark.
I dont know what it wants,
but I know it wants me to do its bidding.
I have been a great mage.
I have lived in multiple dimentions, have known secrets too dark for mankind.
I have seen things that never happend, and I have known them to be true.
Unlike those who saw them and thought them to be nightmares,
I have known, and shall remember.
And now as I begin to regognice the shade I remember again.
Terror floods me. I remember! I remember the legions,
I remember the death that I caused.
Never was blood so thick that it could not sip through
the crakcs of my beloved fortress.
The blood - now I know, was my own.
For as the gods struck me, they gave me a mission.
They threw my brother away.
His mission, now ended, was to guide my as I emerge again.
But this time I shall not make the blood run,
this time I shall not make lives forfeit.
I have seen the light, and now the light has me.
< Morganbach "Morgan" Tval