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Here follows a song composed by bards of old and preserved in ancient books of history and lore.

In distant lands beyond the foaming seas,
and past cold mountains tow'ring in the breeze,
a clear and languid river softly flows,
surrounded by two banks where tall grass grows.
an arching ,icy bridge joins these two banks,
that many songs have sung,with praise and thanks.
of sil'vry,crystal stone it seems to be,
but kneel beside its surface and you'llsee,
that on it dance,with dazz'ling speed,strange shapes,
and quiv'ring,shimm'ring mists upon it traipse.
its size is less than many a bridge geat,
yet stern and ageless vastness emanate
from it in waves,so struck with awe one sees,
no thing more colossal did winter freeze.
a hushed frozen silence on it reigns,
that twines 'round all who come to its domains,
with shapeless,formless fingers,vapory,
invisible,but cold and silvery.
not many have upon it tarried long,
to those who have-it was a siren song.
the nameless terror that caused most to flee,
they knew to be an inmost yearning plea.
upon it then they waited many days,
with swiftly beating hearts and eyes ablaze.
soon after,they strange whispers faintly heard,
and could not understand but one small word.
and yet much clearer than their native tongue,
these whispers seemed to them,and all but stung,
they reeled and swooned and knew not what sword bright,
plunged into them and freed a burning light.
and when they walked again among their kind,
all peoples feared them and paid homage blind.
for from their eyes a hallowed light did flow,
and on their brows the only sign did glow.

All those who know whence this bridge comes are few,
but listen now and I will sing to you,
while strumming this my harp with magic strings,
its origin and many other things.
know then that in forgotten ages past,
when raging winds unchecked roamed spaces vast,
and tow'ring flames with wrath and terror burned,
as swiftly rushing waters foamed and churned,
a ringing voice rose from the deepest heights,
of one whose name alone,with terror smites.
the echoes of whose words no bard has met,
and one who has not been created yet.
the rainlord heard this voice and trembled,shook.
but who he is,we must not overlook.
a worn out,stooping wanderer he seems,
to those who cannot see bright hidden gleams.
in truth,while cloaked in frayed and torn robes gray,
all rains and mighty storms he holds in sway,
and when from ancient depths dark shadows rise,
his robes unfurl,and all his gray disguise
dissolves:a tow'ring lord thus to reveal,
from whose light,starry face,the storm winds reel.
his face far greater songs than mine have sung,
to praise it,oh! is far beyond my tongue.
his eyes burn with a wrath that has passed through,
the only fire that could destroy,undo,
and into ashes bring its flaming wings.
look then,what from the dying embers springs?
a luminuous,immortal,entity,
that wrath in rare,prophetic dreams did see.
a depthless sadness sings its silent dirge,
and from the rainlord's eyes does not emerge.
its told in old songs that those mortals few,
who saw his face when winds his mantle blew,
fell to the ground,but ne'er did higher rise,
then when they were thus cast down in surprise.
they gasped then,as the rainlord's eyes did wake,
inside them a bright flying star,and break,
the tangled chains they took to be themselves.
they lived then a few moments past their selves,
as it is near impossible to live,
their life after this flight they then did give.

But now my song has wandered far away,
and I must call it back to that one day,
(if days indeed existed in that time,
and if time's cold and stern tones then did chime)
when there arose that voice the rainlord heard,
and in him then a fear quietly stirred,
and quav'ring from the sound of that great voice,
he made a strange,inevitable choice.
to keep the voice's echoes he resolved,
ere into boundless spaces they dissolved.
he called then all small winds and icy rains,
and bade them to entwine the dying strains,
of the voice in their shimm'ring,twir'ling mists,
and this they did with many leaps and twists.
the rainlord then solidified and pinned,
the echoes wrapped in rains and mists and wind.
into a solid arch these things then formed,
and with it,to his home the rainlord stormed.
he set it in the heart of his domain,
where many years it glimmered in the rain.

Long ages passed before a dark lord came,
and in the rainlord's realm spread darkened flame.
and as in ancient epics it is told,
the rainlord in the end lost his foothold,
and fled to places far beyond all dreams,
while his old realm was filled with wraiths and screams.
the arch,beneath the smold'ring ruins lay,
and passed out of all knowledge in this way,
as none would enter this domain of night.
but once,a vanquished army was in flight,
and sorely driven by its wicked foes,
who it no longer could at all oppose,
it fled in dissaray through that fell place,
the black lord rules,for they were given chase,
and blind with terror,knew not where they ran.
but of their number,one keen,sharp-eyed man,
not far ahead espied a river great,
and knew then that to reach the outer gate,
of that dark,dreadful realm, they must procure,
a means to cross the bridgeless lake thats sure.
the soldiers then,in haste and fear,took hold,
of broken beams,and musty stone slabs old,
and other things that from the ruins they raised,
then with great effort they these things upraised,
and tried to make of them a bridge that could,
save them from being their foes firewood.
one coloumn then,of many others held,
and with great speed the army on it fled.
but what their fate was, whether good or ill,
another book tells, and another quill.
from this song now they pass,but not that piece,
of soiled stone that gave them their release.

It thundered then, and rain in torrents fell,
but as the rain did dust of time dispel,
from off the bridge made hastily in fear,
it shimmered,glowed, and shone with a light clear.
the rainlord's hallowed arch it was, you see,
that now in pouring rain gleamed silently.
this then is what in our time is called,
the icy bridge,that great songs have extolled.
and mine has made its feeble efforts too,
to praise the rainlord and this bridge anew.

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The following comments are for "The Icy Bridge"
by marigold

Thats quite the poem!
I like it a lot. Great imagery.

( Posted by: amusedlilboy [Member] On: February 18, 2005 )

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