Belariath

This week's challenge is 'Bitter Sweet Memories' please enter your original Art, Stories, Poems, and photography here. This can be based out of TLI or in it! Everyone is welcome to enter.

Please stop back and comment on your fellow players work, I am sure they will appreciate it.

Enjoy!

Bittersweet.
An apt descriptor for the feelings Wade felt every time he walked by his Dayhan and saw that obsidian statue of The Lady still clutching his mithril sword in a tight grip. Bitter, because it left him only two knives and spells to protect himself. Sweet because.. well there was no sweetness to it; the sword Alta Nova had forged to match his daggers Huginn and Muninn was held hostage, and wade had no idea how to get it back, if he even could.

So, theres half the equation..

Forgotten but not lost.

When the darkness surrounds....leaving no light to be found...with the kiss of lust....you lost all that you trust....when your heart doth skip a beat...your eyes yearning ever to seek....when you search for days...but never finding your way...when you lose almost all hope....you see light's speck words softly spoke.....when you reach out to grasp...yet falling backwards always the last...when your mind is full of clouds...wondering why who or how....your tears come for days... yet every time never seen through the rain....heart full of so much sorry....the crows of despair eager your heart they borrow....your cries forever silent....until the end where all is quiet.

Wade nice memory written out!

Van very nice poem! I like the forgotten but not lost feeling within the poem.

All that time, just you and her, how those feelings do stir,
Telling her you love her, like you've never loved another,
That sparkle in her eyes, the soft way she sighes,
Everyone sees it right, she's a light in the darkest night,
She's an angel before you, she does so adore you,
But to her you're a friend, loyal, caring, right til the end,
Her heart set on another, while your own does suffer,
But wanting her happy, to know she's so,
To see her shine and glow, not filling with woe,
Doing the right thing, is never a sin,
What she came to ask, what to do but bask,
In meaning so much to her, her faith and trust she did offer,
"Should she marry, should she be his."
Bitter sweet indeed, but my heart did heed,
She loved him wholly, but in a way not solely,
To her was said, what entered my head,
"Marry, love him with all your heart, he is good for you, don't be apart."
Still to wonder this day, if I'd asked her to stay,
You know she's the one, you know even when she's gone.

What a lovely poem, it was very poignant.

(I will try my hand at this)

Memories of a Silent Goodbye


Silent goodbyes are so peaceful
Flowers brilliant, passionate in color
Turn to
Soft pastels, a calming scent

Look back at empty fields
Lessen
The sadness of not seeing your face
As the tree limbs blow in the winds
A silent goodbye is sent

I bid you to find peace
I won’t look back at that field again
When autumn harvest wilt the grass
I will sit and look at the blue vase

The flower that never wilted
The infamous blue room
So white and untouched
Whispers a silent goodbye
Now just a bittersweet memory

There was a soft sigh as memories came unbidden to his mind, his hand raising up and running through his hair. A home, a place of belonging, that it was and so much more at times. He had found joy and happiness, as easily as he had found sorrow and misery but such was life. As long as you had somewhere to be, somewhere you belonged then it would always eventually get better. Or at least thats what he always told himself, anywhere you could stand on your feet, still held with it the chance for something great, or something terrible, it was a matter of making actions your own, taking what you wanted, never apologizing for the good or the bad. That was the lesson, that was the way, but it could not remain as such not any longer. The place he called home, the land that he so enjoyed was now a foreigner to him, a stranger, cold cruel and cut off. He took one final look at all the lost opportunities, all the brilliant moments of joy and happiness, and all of the sorrow and pain that had made his life, represented in those austere buildings and the memories of the people inside of them, and finally turned walking off into the night. No longer welcome but always a part of it.

Lovely piece Dias!

I love your poem, Tehya. It is like you, beautiful and serene.

She woke up in a sweat and panic, that need to call those who had raised her, the phone was answered, driven by an almost madness. Click it was answered.
"Hi sweetheart, what do you need?"
"nothing Grandpa, just wanted to talk, to check on you, how are you doing? what's new?"
"Nothing much, doing my studying for tomorrow's sermon, do you want to talk to your grandma?"
"yea, is she around or is she still sleeping? Don't wake her if she is, we can still talk for awhile."
"She's still asleep, I will have her call you when she wakes up but I, need to go, and get this sermon written."
"oh, uh ok, well if you have to, I love you, good luck."
"Thanks, I love you too.." *click*
(Two hours later) The phone rings, answers expecting it to be the grandmother, all you hear is sobbing
"Hey, is your husband home yet?"
"No he would have just gotten there about a half hour ago why?"
"Shit.. I hate to do this on the phone."
"Dad whats going on?"
"Your Grandpa.. he.. he is dead..."
"What?"
"He died.. Grandma woke up and found the phone (landline) off its cradle and his bible next to him"

Very touching Isla it makes you think.

Nice SB she looks very contemplative, and longing for someone!