Throne of the Forest - 1st Canto

This is a poem based off an original story that I have written recently, called "Throne of the Forest". 
Its supposed to be a folklore type of story. 

Instead of posting it as a story, however, I'm making it as a poem. 



This is the first Canto, of an intended three. 


Please enjoy. Let me know what you think. 
Where I can make improvements. 
Etc. 

I:

A kingdom's death comes at the end of blood,

Staining fear guided hands of the fated king.

The family fled through famine and flood,

Alas, as cat chases mouse, no use in hiding. 

They pleaded with the king, vowing no threat,

Bloodline will remain, under fealty to throne.

But old and wary, in fear of regret,

The king persisted, with heart of stone. 

A lesson learned and lessons passed on,

To kin of those killed for their bloodline:

Of a king who hunts, and lands long gone,

Driven mad by prophecy, to murdering consign.

Blood of the innocent, pushed too far,

They finally turned, to fight for their kin.

Fears confirmed, the king called for war,

Armies once hidden, now bleed and skin. 

Of iron in blood, now chains were made,

Settled on the king, as fate once warned.

To greet him were two, of the last to fade,

On their faces, mirthless smiles were adorned.

"Kingly one, or cowardly one, no more distinct,

Fear has haunted you, and shall further still."

Sneering, opening doors with arms interlinked,

And the king swept past, claiming his kill. 

The room was empty, save an old man by a cot,

Where the sheets were empty and clean. 

"How to hide something so no map can plot?

Hide it plainly, but in a world unseen. 

Bloodline may dwindle, but my grandson lives,

Persist, o king, and the chains shall strangle." 

The king now fearful, with murderous motives,

Searched to no avail, his fate now in tangle. 

No name marked on cot or on parchment,

There was no sign of child in the halls.

Seemingly non-existent, but spies confident,

That the babe's cries once echoed these halls.

Whisked away by magic, far from the grasp,

Of armies and arms of the bloodthirsty king.

Prophecy drove the king eventually to his final rasp,

Many years later at the hands of the forest's king.

Liar Liar

I came up with an idea of how we, as people lie to ourselves, and to others. 

Sometimes to hurt, sometimes to spare someone's feelings. Sometimes, we lie to ourselves, refusing to see what is right IN FRONT of our eyes, whether it be for good (refusing to see red flags), or bad (refusing to see the good). 

So this is.... a working model of a poem about that.

As always, please tell me what you think, and where I can make improvements in my writing :) 

The steps we take, and smiles we fake,
to hide the thoughts inside.
Kings of pain, and Queens of hate,
waiting for the stream to subside.
Masks and Deceit, we wear our attire,
As we live by the words, "Liar Liar".

Some take to maiming, when emotions run wild,
others to hide and save in attempts to be kind.
Still more chose paths wherein unwittingly reviled,
to themselves, in mirrors, we remain as blind.
To hide the truth, in unison we conspire,
As we live by the words, "Liar Liar".

Blessings from curses, misremembered moments,
Pain from pleasure, those which time makes bitter.
Trusting ourselves, well meaning claimants,
of memories not distorted, with a subconscious titter.
Lying, unaware to oneself, no matter how dire,
As we live by the words, "Liar Liar".

My Nightmare Queen/ Jadis of the Ice

My latest work, and its been some time between my last and this one. 
I had my exams, we all had to deal with Covid-19. 
And we're all here now, in Almost September with life still hanging by a thread, and this is my First (Possibly only) work I published in 2020. 

Normally, I never go for a darker approach to my poems, since I made this blog with the intention of sharing positive ideas and such. But there's something fun about the way rhyming works in adding to the creep factor, how it adds to the foreboding nature of things. 

That being said, this poem has been made from some of the nightmares that I've had this year alone, and I also reread part of the Chronicles of Narnia; Queen Jadis, Sole surviving resident of a dying world, and an extremely powerful sorceress, later known as the White Witch for bringing about an unchanging winter. 

A part of the inspiration for my Nightmare Queen also came from "The Snow Queen" by Hans Christian Andersen.  

So, in the time that I sit and wait for my codes to run (doing my Master's Project thesis right now, by the way), I decided to write down my nightmares, this time to share it in a way that I normally would not be.

Also, a quick note. A 6 lined stanza is known as a sexain (as said by the poetry foundation, so we know its official), and I think this is the first time I've worked with this style. 

As always, 
I am open to criticism, so please tell me where you think I can make improvements to my writing. 
Hope that you all are keeping safe, and are well.

And Enjoy :) 

Jadis Of the Ice:

Dreams now spread across the screen,

Stories galore, of the Nightmare Queen.

Betwixt moments on turns of the wheel,

Sleep cycles by on by, with sadistic zeal.

Three stories told by the revenant child,

"memories" shared, we remain beguiled.

First, a tale of ancient islands lost,

Their path with oceans blight once crossed.

A sickness borne of waters deep,

From nine who lay in layers of sleep.

It pierced the skin, and pierced the bone,

Flesh turned water, in air overgrown. 

Whispers in the wind, smelling like slaughter,

"Do you ever really think about the water?"

Snaking past once more, on wickedness alight,

"Do you think of those, now lost to the blight?"

Crawling from the water, infected await,

Wanting their families, more to desecrate.

She shook her head, with emotion, the actor,

Arms outstretched, as worlds begin to alter. 

The Queen bears her teeth, a still of a bite,

"Do you think of those, now lost to the blight?"

Mockingly repeating, the voices of the lost,

The islands vanish, having paid their cost.

Laughing, she turns, turning the page,

Pulling us along, like birds in a cage.

Her grip like iron, her arms opaque,

The dreams surrounding shatter and break.

Drifting towards, old familiar places,

Only devoid of life, no familiar faces. 

An aged house, sat atop a hill,

Wood creaked beneath, weary and still.

Second tale begun of the nightmare child,

Suns set, howls prevail, in the outside wild.

This house of memories, it twists and turns,

Sans people, just you, on tour with no returns.

Your old bedroom, from a home long gone,

Then your best friend's house, just as forgone.

Old classrooms now, with layers of dust,

Stuck, not quite alone, without any trust,

With the queen who rests her hand on yours,

Sipping despair, while the world roars. 

Summoned back to the old house once more,

Her voice echoes, now a deafening roar.

"A single drop is all it takes, for blood to churn the water.
So run child, run far away, and then keep running farther."

The howls renew, the wolves draw near,

Your feet, they fly, fleet in fear. 

Open spaces outside, and sheer drop to follow,

As we crash to the ocean, through noon skies hollow.

Slowly at first, then the world catches up,

Weightless undone, the heart begins to gallop. 

Visions splinter, as she bids you farewell,

The ground approaches and dreams expel. 

Waking in cold sweat, the queen's touch still lingers,

Visions grow brighter, but heart still thunders.

Moments pass and dreams become memory,

Following through, no break in reality. 

No introductions made in her palace of lies,

But her name on my lips, "Jadis of the ice".