Libris Obscaena

[Blindhamsterman]

yay for Elenaril getting mentions (that aren't mean or anything ) also, lovely as always

[Ansha]

Truthfully I'm not terribly pleased with the way that poem turned out, but at least it has an Elenaril-mention going for it!

[Ansha]

It all came back in a rush, in a dream--in a nightmare.
I remember that first night with a woman,
And the bitter irony of losing my will to a beauty beyond compare.
The mind is the greatest prize of all, I was taught,
And often I wondered if this applied to even my own.
It did, it seemed, but that passionate night brought the revelation:
Compulsion was release from responsibility.
And yet it changed everything--who was I, really? How much of me was a lie?
Were my thoughts--my mind--my own? My world shattered.

Baelyth and Sahtara saved me--from my family, from my devastation--
They sent the woman--the demon--away; they raised me as their own daughter.
Yet their lives ended too soon, and I was set adrift again,
Lost for who I was, and who I was to be.

My life, my choices, have been my own--or do I still labor under some geas, some spell?
For all my choices, I have done them for my own purpose and gain,
Yet they all align with my ancient line's dealings; they are no different from a diabolist's aim.
But I turned away from their path! Why then does my own parallel theirs?
Am I bound by my very nature? This I must know:
Who am I? and where do I belong?
Til I know this answer, my mind cannot be at ease,
And I remain adrift, lost.

[Ansha]

Whispers most vile in my ear
Whispers most foul to my heart
You speak to my most primal fear
Your manipulations are an art
You draw fog over my senses
And with every breath
Your insidious words creep through my defenses
You promise escape, you promise a quick death
You corrupt everything you touch
Every mind an empty sieve
You pour in your filth
And even the most stalwart believe
Your lies are truth
And your promises keep.

The depths of my heart you plumb
And with every word you make my heart numb
I cannot guard against your truths
Nor disbelieve your lies
With every thought you draw me closer
With every word you lure me in
I can't help but wonder
What I did to let you in.

You speak words of power
Your imprisonment draws near its final hour
If only you'd set me free
From the one to whom my soul bends its knee,
From the one I don't know for my own,
The Queen atop her Razor Throne.

[Ansha]

Tears like rain
From your eyes, not mine
My torn soul
And yet your heart entwined.
An eye for an eye
A heart for a heart
His eye for my heart
And my heart for my kin's dying cry.
A festering wound is all that remains
And a perverse joy in the act
The knowledge that I was the last thing he saw
And a black widow's love, born of my ancestral pact.
I know not whence this fierce joy comes
Nor why it leaves me so conflicted
I only know that it felt so right
To have recompensed the man for the misery he inflicted.
Yet the killing took its toll
On this aching soul
And though I promised myself I would not shed a tear
You have gotten far too close, I fear.
Tears fall like rain,
From my eyes, not yours
You reminded me again of this stain--
My soul, my honor, left behind on distant shores.

[Ansha]

And though my heart aches
No man ever shall find
Solace here for more than a breath, for
Hands and minds alike
Are far too easily misled.
Sorrow consumes me
And my heart shall find no rest
Ever so slowly,
Rotting in my living grave, and yet vibrant to mundane eyes.
Alluring as a fey spirit, I esteem myself
Lovely as a fresh-faced maiden, I know myself to be
Yet black as ichor on the inside,
And with Abyssal power coursing through my veins, I know not what I am
No man shall save me, for I was damned before I was born.

[NESchampion]

(( ))

[Ansha]

What madness in dreams
Or whispers in the night
In Silverymoon where the Moonbridge gleams
Should drive level-headed holy-men to fight?
What foulness creeps
Like fog where fair Silverymoon sleeps
And what tendrils slither
Over bright sparks of life as they wither?
The whispering fiend made his play
And two foolish mages kept him at bay
With but a few words,
While devout men outside crossed swords.
Yet now the story reaches its conclusion--
For the book rests in the Spellguard's hands
But still in the clergy there is confusion
And the whispering fiend likely forms new plans.

[Ansha]

Most would be far wiser
About spells slung or
Drunkenly garbled, but at least
Excitement ensued, and all
Landed softly in grease, and saner heads prevailed,
Else perhaps a sword would have found
Itself in a new holster,
New and warm and soft and quickly
Expired, as lifeblood drained.

[Ansha]

My friend, ever watchful, ever graceful
And ever smirking,
Even as I gaze upon you at your last hour
Reading the doom of your life, and
Employing all my strength to
Delay sorrowful tears, know that I
Hope you are alright, wherever you are, and
Even though I fear you are
Lost, may mercy always prevail over judgment.

[Blindhamsterman]

well written as ever

on a different note... heads will roll... who's heads... remains to be seen

[Ansha]

My chains, my manacles, are no design of mine
Yet now I find in my distress
That you would add a collar of thine:
That I should be more conservative of dress.
What has my bare skin, tantalizing,
To do with my soul, lost though I may be?
What is the grounds for this moralizing?
I am simply of a different People than thee.
To you, I may owe my life
Yet not my all or everything;
No, I think you overreach where conjecture is rife
And I refuse to conform to your own song as I sing.

I am a free spirit, and I'll not be caged.

[Blindhamsterman]

nice

(*stabs her*)

[Ansha]

nice

(*stabs her*)

[kid]

someone should really start slapping Ansha on a regular basis.

I humbly offer myself.

(Shh... don't tell paazin.)