Sole Judge of Truth II

[Cliu Beothach]

A piece of written work is posted here:

Honor of a Kingdom

A look at the Citizen:
Upon further examination of this Kingdom, the kingdom. I realized the similarties were startling. Through the research I had accumlated, and the time I had to investigate these claims, I had come to a conclusion. It was indeed a boyish grin on a manly face. One that shined through with honor, but something was missing. Somewhere, something changed the grin, to a toothless smile. His eyes, they had the same look, but took in different light. His body was the only one that had stayed the same. Upon my own experiences of this kingdom, I can see how he changed. A weaker man, would have died as him. I still trust in his reasoning, but not his judgement. It is quite clear how he came to be now, how he was demoted. His transgression was only his fault to a certain extent. As soon as he came to this kingdom, it was too late. It engulfed him, the lifestyle. The taint grew larger, the kingdom expanded and he was lost.

There was nothing left to do. His stress would accumulate from his past. Now, his path was limited. His faults were his own, but his downfall was not. A new understanding came to me today...

The kingdom must have changed, for I was not as strong as him.

~Brer Beothach~
Magistrate of Trollsbane

[Cliu Beothach]

More is added

Honor of a Kingdom

Unexplained:
A force is here, one with the powers to change. I feel it in the air, every time I enter the kingdom. Closer to the way it is, not was. I resist the urges, the strength is overbearing. From time to time, I must exit and relieve myself of this pressure. This vast pressure, layered with emotions that were bled into the soils. All combined into an unusual experience, and the soils still damp with blood. I can almost touch it and come up red. The temptation brings me back, but the experience drags me away. I wish I could see it once again, in its stone. The mud encrusted roads, the mossladen walls, the cracked castle that lie in the center. It forces me to write, inadvertently. It is the only way to lessen the calling of the bells that resonate from the tall tower that still stands even though its foundations are eroded. They call me now, I can hear them. I miss them still, so deeply.

A twisted fate bestows the land I see. If I had not come here too late, I would not appreciate it. Yet, if I had come early it would still be standing. Its grandure, unappreciated, would be restored to its former glory. It led me here, and still ties me down. As intriguing as this place is to me, it tortures my inhibitions. It tells me to break free with each toll of the bell. Infact, it builds bridges to those I cannot visit, I must visit them this way. The inability to travel there only brings me back to itself. Damn this infernal kingdom that taunts me.

And additional note has been added

Sorry, it has been particularly hard tonight.

~Brer Beothach~
Magistrate of Trollsbane

[Cliu Beothach]

Honor of a Kingdom

Conduit:
So close these other cities lie. I see them in the horizon as they span for miles, stopped by rivers. The walls prevent me from looking in, the only information is recieved from the people who leave them. Locked in by tyrannts, only few come out and still hide the true intentions of these fortresses. So I sit here, waiting. Waiting for the large gates to swing open once again, a rare occurence. For both must be open, wide. The flow of knowledge can only begin when this rarity occurs.

So I sit here, gates closed. I watch the others open from the my perch. The bell tower makes a nice place to sit and watch. People travel to each other city, while the gates are kept closed by my king. Two kings now, live in one kingdom. While I sit here and watch from the bell tower. The tall, looming tower which resides in the kingdom. The kingdom, my brother Cliu.


~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

Honor of A Brother

Burial:
I began to mount the tumulus and try to let the past be just that. It seemed that he was still very much alive. I could feel his cold hand reach for my shoulder. A struggle ensued as I headed for the nearest shelter. Once reaching this crypt, I went down the circular stair case. It seemed as if it would never end. Finally, a glimpse of light beckoned my eyes. I walked what seemed like miles, down a dark corridor. Haunted by the scent of ocean through the halls, I came full circle. I was under my brother's burial site, his body had fallen through the stones and earth. His bony hand led to a poem enscribe on the wall. I held my torch to it, and once the light was shed, it was the most haunting thing I have ever read:

My waking worries wax at twilight,
And my body wishes for rest a while,
I ponder passive peace of infinite quiet,
And if the Gods shall smite or smile.

My weary wonders make my mind afoot,
And trusting in my choice of spirit,
I gather good and guiltless traits of root,
And those of hate and hubris I wish to rip.

I come to see refinement is needed,
And I shall not worry for my everlasting,
I soon reach rest with my sleep secured,
But if it is truly phase or unchanging.

The rude need thought and so I send,
Will it impinge or misapprehend.

~Cliu Beothach~

The poem would stay with me forever. It confirmed my fears for now, for what was written was my life. It led to long walks away from the other kingdoms, into desolate wildlife. I soon understood why I began to write. I would keep hope open, with gates closed. The kingdom still kept me locked, but my letters were my freedom. So, I waited for a note, one that would bring answers. I waited.


I waited.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

Reexamination of a Kingdom

The Schizm:
A crack begins here, the kingdoms have split. The three that once stood for justice and protection are against each other now. All on different levels. The lowest of all, is the one I sit in. There, nothing can be done. I wait for another shift to bring us to eye level, but to no avail. Nothing shall be done. Things do not work any more, we fight against each other now. We struggle to overpower each other. The trade routes are gone, the roads demolished. Nothing shall be done. A rift, a divide, now breaks the system of the three kingdoms. Those few gates which I could count on being open, had been shut now. Decisions need to be made, either I run from my perch or I wait to rebuild.

Emotional turmoil, that which bounds me to this cannot be quelled until these ties are fixed. I ask for someone else to take a step too. Some how, a note even. So...I wait, hoping that these communications do not fail. It is the only way I know now. I wait.


I wait.


~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

Honor of a Brother

A dove:
So, it began. I set my eyes to a kingdom nearby. It was true, the gates were opening. I leaped at the chance and through mine wide, and men began to walk. Another kingdom opened up, but soon shut at my gates. Still, the other men sufficed and we exchanged citizens. It started off with great speed and we exchange many things. Gold, Goods, Men, and other commodities. Though, his gate began to close, I had opened mine to wide. I thought on this as the transfer slowed. Soon the gates shut, and I headed up to my perch.

I gazed upon all the other kingdoms, still trapped in mine. So, I decided a dove would be needed. I sent a message, another communication attempt. The gates could not block these. I waited.


And I waited.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#2
Whore that has dressed in human clothes,
Taunting with phrases, its truth would expose,
A wretched being mutated by perversions,
No needed attempts for future conversions.

I hear the yelps let out by the creature,
The piercing screams that compliment its features,
And so the last left the room; empty at that,
and it screamed again, went down on its prat.

It cried in torment, the one that I heard
Useless to listen to, its pleads were absurd
Useless to help, its wants were too deep
Useless to yelp, its demons did creep...

Up to the window to the asked it once more,
Its pleads were the same, forever more.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

Reeximanation of A Kingdom

Stagnation:
The pleonastic speechs echo through the rotten halls. They haunt me, repeatedly. They are a constant reminder, a chant to my foibles, they preach growth. The want me to understand without giving back. The voices boom and shatter once grand statues. The faces, they crumble over.

Often times, when I walk through these halls, I am confronted. They show me things, from the windows. From these halls, which hang so high, I peak out past the kingdom's walls. Out, large forces gather to entrap me inside. It is evident why my gates are closed and economy has dropped. It now takes twice the work to raise the same yield. I see that there is no way to break these forces, they are too large. Walls must be broken down. A tough decision for a king. Shall he let his kingdom open to all threats, all treaties, everything? I ponder these things as I watch the tyrants. Their tongues out, hissing loudly. Shall I break the wall and let my army spill over, or shall I remain here, untouched?

I still wait.


~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#3
So deep do I reach to grasp these words,
The elements of eloquence.
They escape my fingers quick
only to last but a moment in my mind.

Essence has been drained
down to the power, watered down.
Thoughts unlikely protrayed in true manner
so that I may reach for something further than these words:

"Twice an arms length,
the treasures do lie.
The nimble of feet,
have no use to try.

The lanky elf's heart had nothing to give.
The speaker was quiet, no reason to live."

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#5
Four is lost in anger, thrown
Now, no longer it is the same
Piled with waste, it feigns
True reasons distorted, new ones claimed

Of course, a graceless Gynkeesh shall own
as nature of habit, the littered lines
And, as logic informs us more inclined
He shall leave his knowledge a bit behind.

And so the knowledge is once more loaned
the cycle continues, eternal
The wisdom of man made infernal,
by the word expressed external.

Expression made banal by misquoted fools,
Yet humans keep using these wretched tools.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

Honor of A Brother

The Prophet:
He entered through a crack in the wall, only wide enough for his shape and size. He entered with great knowledge, an understanding I had never heard of yet. He came offering a clue for the mystery I had already solved. It assured my fears more.

My Brother, the kingdom. Untimely death to symptoms of dark magic, though it went deeper. A new perspective was reached. I could see, the symptoms were clear. His works grew shorter, his death grew near. I had only few choices ahead of me know. Continue my diplomacy with the other kingdoms, or succumb to his fate. I prayed that my latest and last feat would work. Either that, or I would have to wait for other sized profits to fit in and give rays of hope.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#6
My brain constantly floating in the brine
The seas of Gobiath acting as a cure
Entering the island, making pickled minds
Fickle fantasies tainting what was once pure.

Diluted flavors, Delicacies Made,
The meaning lost with time, once tasted fresh
True souls lost with mine, an unbalanced trade
Sickenly sweet and sour is what's left.

Ebb and flow, a natural occurence
Gobiath's seas decline, creates my deference.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#7
The constant companion lies in the grave,
First one to join me and last one to leave,
Tears sprout up mold from the tomb as I grieve,
The Friendly God mourned the bereaved.

As I stare at my final resting place,
My brother's face does not leave so quick
As I wish, his tortured glare burns deeply,
Tattering the edges, the structure, the words.

Unheard, the message remains,
Loathed, the town stays the same,
Couth, the curse still obtains
...

And loosely based on my life, The Sole Judge of Truth,
Meant to be precise, but intents are subdued.


~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#8
It is hard to forget about the past,
when the past has been abhorred till the last
day, and it is hard to see through the night,
when you violently blinded by light.

But things shorten with these everchanging lights,
Comfort is found in newly started plights,
And writing is less necessary than before,
Inhibiting my mind to wander, once more.

And it is hard to hold back this hate.
And it is hard to fool this straggling fate.


~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

Reexmination of a Kingdom

The Decision:

And so walls were crushed, the damage had been done. Only one person had attacked as others poured in. After a cease-fire, I decided to explore the ruins of the great wall. Scattered lie men that died from the one woman siege. Yet, upon these ruins and odd object lied. It was a heart, green.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#9

We have all been in this situation,
Where we are at a loss for the words
That so accurately describe emotions,
Consequences we suffer for the words heard.

The water bathed my hand, inducing a
Sense of purity never reached before,
An understanding for things may,
and the chatter of victory builds more.

The Drow was vanquished, so I hear
Yet not a step moved from current place
Realized by the sand that drifts near
This new knowledge is embraced:

That this diffusion of joy is caused and spread
By the words still remaining in my head.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#10

Conquer or serve are sole paths followed,
Under natural conditions where one feels hollow,
One must choose between these two roads,
Unrequited and the one's future will bode:

That there is no hope for the neglected,
That there is no resting place for the weary,
That there is no quater for the weak,
Nature loathes these.

One can find themselves, unfinished...

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#11

Another shift towards the predicted seen,
The Prophet mocks the inescapable,
He laughs to his children as he yeans,
And like the goat, I follow the unable.

I suckle at the seers overflowed teat,
It constantly flows making me parched,
The dry throat, a constant reminder to greet
The ones that went before me, now scorched.

I the sheep, lie down with my mother Fate
The shepherd death speaks of being late.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#12

My hands, they do not work anymore,
and I examine their many spots,
Pale and lifeless, they continue to look for
a reason to stop from being idle lots.

The man grows more desperate to find
An answer to this troubling times,
but his idling hands make things much worse,
Chained down by this desolate curse.

Swilling away time but creating new choices,
A despondent man sits and rejoices
the failures of his time and life up till now
Failure to work, to love, to hope, to trow.

The mug now empty, more time to ponder,
How he hasn't died yet, its quite a wonder.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

Sole Judge of Truth

I have often times written about fate in these recent works and I blamed my rotten one. Yet upon further examination, I discovered that the road that my life would lead down is not the trouble here, it is the fact that I have an idea what this road leads to. Especially knowing that is almost impossible to stop this outcome is what hurts the most. The wound begins to fester and becomes infected, but what is worse when they are healed. Sewed neatly and clean, the wounds are bound to break again and, in essence, the bandages caused more harm than good. New ideas come to me and a realization enters my mind. The reason for my brothers actions are quite clear now. As helpful as that is, it is quite frightful to feel these same symptoms he surely once felt.

I search for a cure, quickly. As did he.


~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#13

I throw the dice once more for it is all,
I have left to console undeniable truths,
And it is too much now to think up rhythm
or rhyme, once again it is left to chance.

So desperate, he puts faith in the die,
and one begins to understand why,
His tools start to look quite tempting to him,
His days in the desert must have drove him mad.

Yes, he has noticed these tools before,
examined them thoroughly and came
to the conclusion that these tools are
quite capable, quite sturdy to do the job.

These repetitive themes are getting redundant,
but it is only to capture the feeling of life.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#14

And we do sit upon this edges,
And we do make our fake pledges,
And we do passively create,
And we do neglect our fate.

And we do look past horizons,
And we do extend our arms,
and we did forget our warm hands,
as they wrapped around the others.

And we now realize our follies,
and we now have no say,
and we now no longer can replay
our lives as they wither in decay.

We are now left with ourselves, tautness
The ones we left, thoughtless.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#15

The strings are taut and notes are tuned,
The song is scribed and revised,
The ears are ready for the sound of doom,
The hand is loomed and fingers itch.

The arm is reluctant and paralyzed,
The shoulders straight and realized,
The chest is shallowed and unrefined,
The waist is broad and pinched.

The neck is stiff and unrelenting,
The head is fixed always inventing,
The eyes are blind by misty brine,
The face is stuck and set in time.

The legs are struggling and tire
for the feet are stuck deep in the mire.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#16

Oh Zhambra, how far it seems we have come,
And only being blessed by you, found ironic,
that these events once again match some
of those traits to my blood, iconic.

And it seems that at trial's end we meet,
Just to fulfill a live that's already lived,
A short-lived victory never tasted sweet,
So ignorant of my future is where we shall meet.

And while on this path, I will be phased,
By questions of course, answers known,
My eyes will be shut to stop a craze,
My mouth will be open to continue this drone.

And I will take tranquil from my short reward,
It seems so worth while that these hardships afford.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

The old parchment is ripped a new one placed on top
#18

These instances are always so fleeting,
And monotonous like the sound of bleating,
The cultures cauldrons will be seen meeting,
A harbinger of hate this intersection acts.

The caterwauling courts the flame,
Those self-righteous take the blame,
Wrapped deeply is this game
the poison drains our tact.

Hate and passion, these kindred kinds,
Shall stoke the fires for all times,
And from these flames the smoke arise,
Spreading knowledge from the black.

Unfinish, we have still land to trample,
and unfortunately our hate has proven ample.


~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#19

And we swallow the red yew berry,
Soon to swallow the dead you berry,
A shovel always sharpened and at hand,
So if precursor of such goes bland.

Tempting tones travel from maiden's tongue,
Gullible guise greets neck, wrung,
Perfect angled honed while finding,
the Diamond stones worn down from grinding.

The back is straight and neck is taut,
The tool is lodged and sturdy,
The sand provides such realisation so
The accident may be diverted.

These final thoughts do mesmerize,
Catastrophes diverted with such glib.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#20

A rare chance in this journey I embarked,
A rabid storm cursed the 2nd of Mas,
And the fog makes it possible for the Evil's lark,
And my visions are blurred and no doubt trick.

The vision of three remarkable towers out of the dim,
with stones and illegible scriptures, I pass,
Sounds harkening me to hear this liminal hymn,
A song of foretold theories told to the quick.

And the land quivers to keep the darkness sealed within.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#17

Oh, Barren body bound by time,
With arms akimbo tied at palms,
And weather wishing to deline,
a resting region for these psalms.

Nature nutures and nothing more,
a pithless pool of wretched wrecks,
that conjure calamity as a chore,
Bent on breaking brother's neck.

Wearied by wicked wolves, running,
Short streams of memories slipping away,
Raking for room to become more cunning,
Fevered fangs show their child's play.

Wilderness shows now worry for its state,
Mostly worrying me, this harrowing trait.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#21

These spoken words, not understood
whose replaced the form of whispers,
Employed for a discrete humiliation
the stage was set again.

The actors took their spots,
And life continued as fixed,
Scripted by the Gods and their lots,
The events still remain.

Grimacing death gathers herds,
I do not want to be the one,
Living life looking backwards,
Decisions have been ordained.

A reaper rears an ugly head, a slow kill in the cold,
Reflections of a the past, present, and future told.

~Brer Beothach~

[Cliu Beothach]

#22

The scrying seer soughed a simple fate,
The cat escaped and theres nothing to do,
And nothing ever changes, the future is belate,
And death leans to my ear to coo.

Mystics aside, ancient relevance is unveiled,
A furtive fellowship with reasons to elevate
Importance, to humiliate the weak, quailed.
Inducing feelings and remarking, quaint.

Unguided thoughts, abundant these days,
Meshing life together, an distorted haze.

~Brer Beothach~