Hah hah! I have finished with the first chapter in The Chronicles of Raven! Be prepared for possibly THE LONGEST FREAKIN' POEM EVER POSTED ON PEEL SO FAR!

The Chronicles of Raven - Chapter 1: The Rape of Arella
At ten-and-seven years,
The young woman flees abode
Weary has she grown
Of her father's vituperation,
Her mother's abhorrence of her;
Disgusted has she become
At her parents' misprizal of herself
And so, run away from home she does
Wand'ring through the dark streets
The city of Gotham is not kind
To those not well on their feet
Soon the girl finds herself
Clothes tattered and torn,
Her feet with blisters worn,
Her hands chilled to the bone
Soon the girl finds
Herself all alone
In this city
Where even the heroes who protect it
Are not free of darkness inside
So the girl finds herself
Lost in the night
In this city where crime never sleeps
No one understands her
No one even tries
And so alone she lies
Lost in the shadows
Of her own doubts
Lost in her own world
The screaming thoughts, the sounds
Her stomach
Cries out for food
Not wanting to beg,
She opts instead to scrounge
The scraps she finds
In her daily hunt
Are barely enough to keep her alive
Parched of thirst,
She shoos off a huge bird,
A raven in her path
But then, under the bird's flapping wings,
Comes into view the Church
Abandoned, does the building seem-
Deserted, save the vase
Wait - the vase! That peculiar urn!
Is it? Yes! Water is but held within its keep!
Like lions to their prey, the girl drinks away
From the vase with four odd red markings, four red eyes upon its clay
When the water has been all but drunk,
A voice suddenly stuns
The girl whirls around for a face
But when placed one she does,
She is hesitant to run -
These people - they ask her, stay!
They give her food, comfort, warmth!
Never has she been treated this way!
Never - no, not once!
Her feelings of loneliness melt away
When asked her name
Does she not flinch to say: "Angela Roth."
Angela Roth,
Who ran away from her own home
Angela Roth,
Now a member of the Church of Blood
Angela Roth,
No longer lost and alone
Angela Roth,
Now, here, does she feel loved
She could never understand
Her parents' blind fanaticism
The hypocrisies of God - such a weak, pathetic religon
But the Church of Blood - lo! Now this was something different!
No one here went against their word, despite they worshipped Satan
And though the mission of The Church of Blood
Was to bring to Earth Beelzebub,
Their members did not treat her like garbage
They did not curse her with eternal damnation,
They did not carry out mass slaughter Crusades;
They did not forcefully try to convert her
With threats that she would not be saved
Neither was it a Heathen Cult,
As described by all those Christian;
No - these people respected her for who she was,
`Twas it here, was she accepted
`Twas here, for her did people care;
Unlike her bastard parents,
Who never gave a damn
O how she despised them so!
So cold in their hearts
Never did they notice
Their daughter missing
Never did the Police they call
However, soon would young Angela-
So young, naive-
Be repeating to herself
The last words to her
That her father directed,
The night she ran away: "Your actions have consequences!"
That line, though she did not care for it then,
Would she understand anon;
For soon, in the ranks of the Church of Blood,
Did young Angela quickly gain proficiency -
So much so, that when it came time for the Church
To perform the Ceremony that would thus allow
Lucifer passage to Earth,
Was she deemed the one
Who would be Satan's bride-
Who would lay with him,
And carry his child
And when The Devil did appear to Angela - sprawled naked upon the stone,
Was she shocked beyond account!
No pitchfork, no horns! No arrowed tail of a demon!
No, a man - a man! A man did she bear witness too!
A man so handsome, so full of youth!
To this man, was she wed immediately!
With him, did thus she lay-
Never had she felt such ecstasy!
Bur, unbeknownst to her,
She had just committed
The most grevious of mistakes
Marred by her blindness
In the throes of those most pleasurable feelings,
Did all night she spend with the youth,
Lost between his legs
Had she then known the truth,
With the man she would have never lain;
For the next morning, when she awoke
And took another look at her groom-
O, how she recoiled in horror!
O, how did she scream!
`Twas her husband neither Satan, nor was it the youth!
No, as she terrifyingly discovered-
No! `Twas it much, much worse!
She had lain with Trigon the Terrible - a being from another dimension!
Trigon the Terrible, a Demon Ruler-King!
Four eyes upon his head - a gasp! The urn!
The girl's heart sinks - can it not be true?!?
The Church of Blood - hath they betrayed her too?!?
"Yes, my sweet," did Trigon roar,
In a voice so hideously deep,
"Yes, be it true this fact- All you have loved hath decieved!"
"No!" screamed the girl in absolute horror, "No! This simply cannot be!"
"Ah, but it is, my precious wife!" the Demon seethed,
"`Tis the truth you know, but wish not to see!"
"But why?" the girl did beseech him,
"Why is this burden mine to bear?"
With that, the Demon-King chortled - a sound so terrifying,
Her hair stood straight in back
"Girl, do not make me laugh," was his reply,
"This choice was not difficult at all - much too easy are you to snare!"
"NO!" the girl cried, "No! My trust my friends have not fell!"
"Hah! My dear, dear wife - Face the mirror, and face yourself!"
"You still harbor insecurities, upon conflicts do you still dwell!"
"Any vessel like yours," he said, throwing her aside,
"Are perfect conduits for my seeds to implant!"
"And now," he said, coming upon her, "My garden needs more flowers," - And with that, her arms he grabbed;
Screaming, she tries to ignore the feeling
As once again, inside her does he thrust
Somehow, one day, does she escape - but not before
He hath violated her many times over again
And now she walks Gotham, her head hung in shame,
Bearing the child of Trigon the Terrible, the Demon Ruler-King -
Angela Roth - `twas it by her own choices
Did this all come to be.

Must...not...continue...tange nt...aaarrrrgh

Lesbian sex is still
Homosexual action.
Yet you feel sorry?

I think you have a
Double standard based on your
Opinion of men.

Everyone, just ignore my social wrangling here.  Read RavenStar's posts, they're pretty good.  Also, SpaceDal11, I think there's probably another thread on this forum for that...if not, there should be.

Apocalypse of a Wolf:

She walked along, her eyes glowing, fire surrounded her.
She walked through it, letting the flames lick along her back.
Fear had no name to her.
But than how could it if that was all you saw?
Bloody fangs, bruised eyes, heart as black as the night's sky.
She walked along the fires.
The crow was screeching, flapping it's battered wings in the smog.
He pleaded for her soul to return.
Her soul was gone.
She ignored him, tuning out everything around her.
The crow lashed out finally,
"Why don't you speak your name?"
She turned her head towards him and had eyes full of hate.
"What is the point?"
"I would like to know your name before. The one before you became this demond."
She barred her teeth.
"I am not a demond! I am lost! I don't remember my name! Leave me alone now!"
The crow did not obey her demands. He only pondered. Trying to remember who she was. All he knew was that the fires that were a blaze around them, were her reasoning.
"Why did you start this fire?"
She than snarled loudly and snatched her teeth trying to rip his wing off. He flew higher.
"What does it matter!? Why!? Yes I started this fire, but I am the only one here. The only one still alive!"
Her eyes turned to somber and the filled with tears.
"I am alone. They're all dead. Because of me!"
She ran forward one paw after the other. The crow followed her.
"What are you doing?"
She ran fighting her tears.
"I don't wish to live. Why would I live if I can't even live on anything? I killed everyone!"
"I order you to stop this before anything else happens!"
"No!"
She ran faster and saw her pathway to death. A cliff. The crow glared at her.
"Stop!"
"No! Leave me alone! I wanted this all my life, and I don't want it anymore! Just let me do this!"
"But you are the only specises left."
"I can't be! There has to be life somewhere other than here!"
"If you jump you'll die".
She stopped as she reached the edge. He stopped too. She stared down the cliff. It would most certainly kill anything that jumped. She backed up and charged for the edge.
"Exactly."
"Nooooooo!"
Shrilled The crow. But it was too late. She had leapt over the bank and was letting the winds carry her down. She knew that when she died, she would not go to the place where eveyone she had ever loved went. She was going to Hell. She thought of what had happened because of her. Everyone she knew was dead. Everything she had seen was destroyed. All of this would have never happened if she had just let herself drown when she had the chance. No more tears came from her eyes. She knew her fate. As her body slammed against the body of the river, all that was left of the world was dead...

I can either leave it at that or continue. I thank you though.     

Just to let people who care know, the second chapter of The Chronicles of Raven will be titled "Of Azarath and Arella's Giving Birth"

 

Originally posted by germanfryfan:
Wow, awesome, tragic!
Why stop?
Though there is ... something for the writers out there

Why stop? I gotta work out the next part. Thanks GFF!  Glad you like. I guess I'll try and put this next part up today. By the way, sense I'll continue that was the prolouge.(SP?)   

So, is Ravenstar really the same person as Slaytanic Maggot, or do they just write the same poems?  I never got whether this was a joke or not.  Either way, Ravenstar, Manowar called.  They want their +6 cloak of power metal cliches back. 

I kid because I love.

 

Originally posted by canned eggs:
Either way, Ravenstar, Manowar called.  They want their +6 cloak of power metal cliches back.

Heh heh heh heh....actually, I've been listening more to Amon Amarth, Cradle of Filth, Dimmu Borgir, and Borknagar lately...

yeah, I officially changed my nick, CE. I just posted under my SlaytanicMaggot name a few times here so I would - technically - not be double-posting.

Chapter 2 in the Chronicles of Raven complete!

The Chronicles of Raven - Chapter 2 - Of Azarath and Arella's Giving Birth
Heavy her footsteps land
On Gotham's side walks
Heavy with Trigon the Terrible's son, is she -
The young woman: Angela Roth.
Distraught has she much become
Over this horrifying pregnancy
More than once
Does she walk to the bridge
More than once
Does she peer down at the abyss
Yet every time
The cry of a child in her ears
Stops her slipping grip
A jump is out of the question
Next does she try the pills
Whilst hard was it not
To obtain the devices,
`Twas it an enternity
To force them down her throat
With the poisons inside her,
Does she find an alley abandoned
`Tis here does she lay down to die
To free herself from the clutches
Of Trigon
But the medicine
Did it not work straight away
And so, Angela lay weeping
On the edge of using the blade
When suddenly, a golden light
Within its glow is she bathed
At first, does she think
`Tis it merely an illusion
That in time will pass
But out of the glow
Appears an outstretched hand
Beckoned, is Angela, to Azarath
Soon, she realizes
That not working are the pills at all -
`Twas this no vision
Yet, hesitant, is she, to join
This other dimension
Whose citizens, her, doth they beseech
Bred for the purpose of peace
Azarath, passitivity dimension
The hand stays outstretched in the light,
Waiting patiently
Young Angela now knows
Her actions breed consequences
And the wounds! Can they cut so deep!
She looks down at her pregnant skin,
Four-eyed mark, like the urn, burnt in
Wait! What was that she felt? Was it? It was! A kick!
"Come to us," called the owner of the outstretched hand,
"In Azarath will your child be more safe!"
"Here do we not covet violence, or war,"
"Thy people of Azarath, doth they knoweth only peace."
Still unsure, did young Angela hesitate,
The feeling she was getting was the same she had
When the members of the Church of Blood
Met, did she
But then her baby makes Angela's final decision,
The hand in the glow doth she now clasp
`Twixt dimensions do the two beings travel,
Down the shining, golden path
And soon, her feet,
Touched ground, have they-
The ground within the land: Azarath.
Awestruck, is Angela,
At the beauty of the land-
The spires! The buildings! The sky!
Such beautiful hues of blue and green!
And the blossoms - O! O, the trees!
The citizens of the land,
Donned in cloaks, are they all,
Gorgeous cloaks, did Angela notice -
Hoods ending in shape of a bird's beak
But soon would this beauty
Be greatly upset
Another kick does she feel-
Angela, within in her chest
Engorged much, hath her womb become,
Greatly has it grown in short while
The time
The time, does it draw near,
Soon Angela does realize in her gut;
But ere the birthing
Of her half-demon child,
Did they bestow anew upon her
A name most befitting -
Arella - "Messnger Angel,"
And thus was it so,
Angela Roth existed no more
And Arella, was she quickly accepted
Into Azarath's society
By all save but one -
Juris - Magistrate, Overseer
of Food Production
To the High Magistrate Coman
Did he reveal his feeling
That Arella's presence in the city
Bode ill.
"We fled Earth to escape violence," did Juris plead,
"You know her child to be the spawn of Trigon, The Demon,"
"I beseech thee, Coman - I beseech thee, why?"
"Why hath you brought this new serpent to our Eden?"
"Juris, what would you do, my friend?"
Came Coman's reply,
"Would you have us slay her, Juris? No, that is not our way."
"Kill her? No, Coman, of that would I never dream,"
"But can we not cast the child out The Great Door,"
"And to the Limbo Beyond?"
"Tis there, Trigon's spawn will not cause our destruction!"
"Juris!" Coman bellowed,
"Juris, no!"
"The High Council hath already decided the matter,"
"Out The Great Door shall she not go!"
"Listen to me, Juris - and engage both your ears,"
"We can teach Arella's daughter,"
To so submerge her Demonic ways,"
"But, in order to do so, Juris,"
"In Azarath must she stay!"
And thus did Coman finish,
And as away he sped,
Juris, to himself, spoke these words:
"The High Council hath made their decision,"
"And all of us, shall we perish because of it."
Soon after their conversation,
Did Arella go into labor, screaming in agonizing pain
Many months later, was the babe fully expunged
In that moment, when Raven was finally exposed to the world,
Did Azarath's sky turn black
Lightning crashed, thunder rumbled,
And the ground beneath their feet quaked
As buildings crumbled all around them,
Off with baby Raven did Juris steal!
`Twas it Gayla, the baby's feeder,
Who did discover the girl missing
Away did Coman speed to The Great Door
When the news, did it reach his ear
`Twas there, did they find Juris
Ready to plunge with the baby girl
Into the Limbo Beyond
But then, as The Great Door opened,
A light the color of blood shot through
And all `twas left of Juris was dust.
Yet Raven survived,
And thus was it decided
That Azar,
Most revered figure in Azarath,
Would be the one to raise the girl.

The stars are matter
We are matter
But it dosent matter

 

Originally posted by TheLampIncident:
 If I could get a drum set and a 4-track, I would be all over that. Of course, maybe then I'd have to add drum tracks to all the other songs I made up on the spot which destroyed music, but what the hell.

I told the local bartender I had written a grind song about John Basedow, and he improvised one that went, "Little body, big head!  Little body, big head!  No-neck motherfucker!" 

Sounds like verse 2.

Raven, the first one was great. The second one sounds like it was written by Yoda. And then redrafted by Henry The Eighth.

Eeearrgh! I'm not reading the third, until you kill Yoda. Drive him out of your head!

well it seems like what TNUK is saying is that they don't flow

Milton was a hack, who got half of his mythology wrong in the first place. Don't get me started on what a shit Milton was. Paradise Lost is quite possibly the longest thing ever that nobody should ever read.

Don't get me started on Milton, please. This isn't the rant thread.

Pfft, jerk... Milton was blind and yet he managed to make a crapload up about satan... that's like me being without a penis and starring in a hundred porn movies... 

The Undead Army[/u]

Their existence has been questioned by man
But deep down they know they are there
Lurking in the shadows, waiting for them
They destroy the schedule of daily life
That something so simple could throw us back
Where life ceases to exist even for the living
Where panic is the most devastating weapon

They march in loose formations down the streets
Straining their grey, decaying muscles forward
Reaching out for something they cannot feel
Preying on loved ones, feasting on once-peers
Staring with vacant and sorrowful expressions
Their hunger grows stronger with each step
The flesh in their belly will never satisfy them

Living scents float among the chaotic winds
Mix with the rotting flesh of the once men
Drenched with the moisture and grime of night
Directing and attracting these dark silhouettes
Guiding them to terror-stricken families
Not knowing what to do, paralyzed with fear
Huddling together and praying to God for help

Moaning endlessly and marching endlessly
They will never tire, never cease to toil for us
Willing to march through the very flames of hell
Just for the sweet taste of living, breathing tissue
They will keep massing, getting stronger in number
Their ranks will increase forever, until there is nothing
Until the entire span of Earth is overrun by them
Infested with the masses of grinning ghouls
Not feeling for anyone or anything at all
And wandering for absolutely nothing

Chapter 4 of The Chronicles of Raven is done!

The Chronicles of Raven - Chapter 4 - Raven's First Nightmare
Quick doth young legs run
At the moment's ending of the lesson
The sprinting limbs, do they belong
To the girl: Raven.
Daughter of Arella
Fathered by the Demon-King: Trigon.
Once was Raven taught
By Azar, the Almost-Goddess-
But `twas that long ago
Ere when Raven was but ten years of age
Did Azar sadly pass-
All saw Spirit-Soul rise
Never to again be seen
In the dimension of pacificity and peace-
Its name? It be: Azarath.
Now doth Raven learn
Under the guiding hand of her mother
But as the lesson be over today,
Doth to meditate she flit
Silently does Arella follow-
And meeting High Magistrate Coman ,
Do both observe the girl from afar
Said Arella:
"Coman, must I confess-
Doth Raven speak ne a word to me
Lest she must.
Thrice years,
As soon as her lesson, are they over,
Doth to meditate here she rush."
"Must I confess again, Coman,
Even now do I - her own mother, for Azar's sake -
Even now, beginning to fear her
Am I."
`Twas not soon after
Whilst Arella - trying, she was, to sleep-
Did hear from Raven's room
A most agonizing scream
Rushing quick to her daughter's side
Did Arella swing the door wide with haste.
And at once, `twas she confronted
By a most horrible scene:
Raven lay in bed
Shrieking mightily with fear
At the image of the Demon-King above her head
Taunting their daughter,
That voice which bellowed deep,
"Raven, you are mne!" taunted the terrible Trigon
"No! Go away!" did Raven in reply scream
In a flash
Did to her aid Arella rush
Cradling her daughter's head in her arms,
Did thus she turn to her husband's avatar
"Leave her alone!" Arella screamed,
"Let my daughter be!"
And with that
Did the spectre of Trigon's face
Tilt back in laugh,
And finally fade.
When sure Trigon had vanished,
To her bairn did Arella turn
"Raven! Be you alright?"
"Mother! O, mother - whom wast he?"
"Said he, was I his daughter - Mother, be this the truth?"
"Mother, please, do to tell me - Mother! What say you?!?"
Arella bowed her head,
And upheaved a great sigh
And after a silent moment,
"Your father he is,"
Came the reply.
`Twas at that moment,
Did Coman burst into the room
"O, Azarath! Did it shake!
O, his voice! Did it boom!"
"All of Azarath did hear it!
All have gathered round outside!"
"Tell me, Arella, was he here?
That voice! Was it Tri-"
With the raise of her hand,
Did Arella cut him off midspeak-
"Yes, Coman, Trigon was here,
`Twas he, made Raven shriek!"
"Ay," spoke Coman gravely
"Ay, not safe from him here, are we!"
"The girl!" screamed a nearby woman,
"The girl! Did she bring upon us all this threat!"
"Ay, woman," did Coman reply,
"Ay - right may you be yet!"
"But woman, hath you forgotten an egregious fact!"
"Trigon was born, yes, of evils-
Thy evils of Azarath!"
--------------------------------
Chapter 5 will be titled "Coman's Telling of the Origin of Trigon and the First Meeting between Daughter and Father." If Coman's telling of the origin of Trigon takes up as many pages as "Raven's First Nightmare" unexpectedly did, Chapter 6 will become either "First Meeting Betwixt Daughter and Father" or "First Meeting Betwixt Daughter and Father Necessitates Raven to Flee to Earth." Chapter 7 will then be where "Thy Prophecy Lain" will finally fall into place - if anyone reading this cares that much.
------------------

Upbeat. Catchy. I'm thinking "showtune". Something that Gene Kelly could tapdance to...

Dammit Raven, I was glancing through your 5 page thingy and I thought I saw "Trigun" in there. But no, it was not to be.

From the land
Where the drunken midgets live
and play and start drunken brawls
came forth the one
the boy upon whom
rested the fate
of his alcoholic brethren
he staggered forth
bent over upon his knees
and spat his beer-laden spittle
upon a small insect
The people saw this
and they were amazed
surely none had ever seen such spitting
they carted him off to the hilltop
despite his protests
he cried "But I need to pee!"
"Put me down"
"Bring me more beer!"
Inexorably the drunken midgets climbed
up the hill they trod
bearing their boy-hero
The midget king looked
from his throne
down upon the boy
and smiled, pleased by the tale
of the bug spitting-upon.
So it was that
the author
grew tired
of writing
poetry that doesn't
rhyme or follow a pentameter or
any particular rhyme scheme
for truly
the point of this uninspired spot of drivel
is to make a statement about people with too much time and too little talent on their hands.

RavenSlay, whatever you are, dude. That's crap. It reads like you wrote it as a story, then cut out half the words at random, then put random breaks in, then randomised the order of words in each sentance.

It's not poetry. It's an assault upon good sense. Just write your thingy on toilet paper, and wipe your backside with it. It's not the inspired masterpeice that you seem to think it is. It started with promise, died early on, seemed to teeter on the brink of coming back, and is now well and truly corpsified.

I speak as somebody who normally has respect for your work. Others might not be so kind, were their tongues unleashed.

Now I could have sworn it was the other way around. I thought style didn't matter but content did. Not like poetry has much content anyway.

And seeing these constant stories is almost as annoying as you putting your signature in every post. Cut it out.

Something I wrote a while ago:

I'm going to waste this space
With inane dribble
I have writer's block
And it sucks cock

You wasted your time reading this
I effectively robbed you
You suck