Volitar
05-23-2003, 04:06 PM
Dreams of the Fallen
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Well, inspiration to write an epic is from reading Dante's Inferno. So, here you go. I never wrote an epic before, and this is just the first part, so its not done. lol. Please inform me what I need to do to improve, and the thoughts on the ideas in it. Thank you very much!
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Canto I
In a time far beyond,
two pillars rose,
One across the pond,
First had a sweet prose,
Its object not it knows,
Its villainy traps what it shows,
For in its rise of shame,
Of fine art that grows,
In treachery so to blame,
For in the woods a dark game,
Of hidden virtue not in jest,
For fallen it might come not in vain,
It comes up from out of the rest,
A dominant figure in the crimson rain,
With such contempt and such avarice,
It rises up the feeling of disdain,
The crimson falls like mist on all of this,
The wings flutter and crack like a running train,
And what dost thou see before thy own bliss,
The fallen one so profound in dark grace,
Seducing the hoards with a tender kiss,
What throne does thou put above this place,
A seat on the most high oh so amiss,
Of fortune lost by the greed of your displace,
Son of the star most fallen in this silent witness,
Does thee repent for the sins committed to the highest grace,
Fallen from the cherubim to this pit so callus,
Never to repent for sins so ignoble and harsh,
To be strung to all sides with such malice,
Rotting in the blood of your marsh,
Why does thou drink from the blood filled challis,
To never embrace the sweet nectar of the divine palace,
Does thee wait for a chance to raise the throne above this,
To rule on most high drinking the damned so listless,
----
Well, inspiration to write an epic is from reading Dante's Inferno. So, here you go. I never wrote an epic before, and this is just the first part, so its not done. lol. Please inform me what I need to do to improve, and the thoughts on the ideas in it. Thank you very much!
----
Canto I
In a time far beyond,
two pillars rose,
One across the pond,
First had a sweet prose,
Its object not it knows,
Its villainy traps what it shows,
For in its rise of shame,
Of fine art that grows,
In treachery so to blame,
For in the woods a dark game,
Of hidden virtue not in jest,
For fallen it might come not in vain,
It comes up from out of the rest,
A dominant figure in the crimson rain,
With such contempt and such avarice,
It rises up the feeling of disdain,
The crimson falls like mist on all of this,
The wings flutter and crack like a running train,
And what dost thou see before thy own bliss,
The fallen one so profound in dark grace,
Seducing the hoards with a tender kiss,
What throne does thou put above this place,
A seat on the most high oh so amiss,
Of fortune lost by the greed of your displace,
Son of the star most fallen in this silent witness,
Does thee repent for the sins committed to the highest grace,
Fallen from the cherubim to this pit so callus,
Never to repent for sins so ignoble and harsh,
To be strung to all sides with such malice,
Rotting in the blood of your marsh,
Why does thou drink from the blood filled challis,
To never embrace the sweet nectar of the divine palace,
Does thee wait for a chance to raise the throne above this,
To rule on most high drinking the damned so listless,