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Galahan sits at a table and writes. He has been on this island for months seeking a teacher but can't ever find one. More very bad things have happen since he arrived on the is island.
He writes a poem of his life now. He thinks of all the things that have happen since his arrival on this isle and the things he had done. How is life is going down hill and the constant pressure on his back to do well, to find a teacher, and to save his country.

As i walk throughout my life
particularly the Trolls Bane streets
I have a smile plastered on my face
it's like a mask that i wear
to cover all the pain and suffering
thats strategically hidden beneath
What can be compared to a clown's expression
Every once in a while
A tantrum may occur
and a scowl may appear on my face
But, ordinarily, i'm what people would consider
As happy, nice, and handsome
But, most of all-real
But- it's almost like my real self
Wants to show itself

But, what most people don't realize,
is that i'm anything but that-
I'm sad,vincicative, and handsome
And most of all-fake
But- it's almost like my real self
wants to show itself
For what and who i really am
As i walk down the streets of Trolls Bane,
I am like the rich Prince
Walking down the carpet to the throne
Gracefully wearing a crown
And carrying a magnicent sword

But when i reach the throne
And the crown is reemoved
His true self revealed
If someone were to remove my mask, my crown,
i would be revealed as the cold and hurting person as i am
And, miracuousily, all it would take is comfort
and the satisfaction of knowing
That someone honestly cares
to cure me of all scars, atleast most of them
And to make me feel better
But, unfortuanately, none ha achieved
that particular feat.

It seems that even my closest friends
Don't even know how dark my soul is
It seems as if i'm afriad to let anyone in
I'm like the rogue prince
Whose crown removed to revealed to much
And a kiss couldn't cure the pain i feel
He runs, and runs and runs
Until he loses himself altogether
And doesn't entirely know himself anymore
I don't know myself anymore
But, i continue to search form myself
Although, i've been lost in time-
In horrible past that i hate to face.
And, the crown is a barricade.

The barricade that prevents me
From walking down dangerous paths
Dangerous paths that may
lead me in the direction
of my death
And, the crown will lie delicately
In the blood that it has shed



Galahan Jierdan

((first poem i have ever wrote. Hope you like it))

Galahan leaned weakly against the wall of the shop. He looked to the sky and thought of all the things that i have happened. He thought of his father the king and of his family back in Abaida. He took his eyes from the sky and looked at the apple tree infront of him. He thought of the cycles of the tree and decided to make another poem.

The bleeding tree

A person, no matter how good or bad they may be
Can easily be compared to a tree
With lustrous branches of fond memories
And divine leaves of growth and color
The myriad of vessels that run through the leaves
Are the trees source of energy, happiness
and most of all- beauty
But, as life continues to run it's course
The tree begins to die slowly
As one bad thing after another occurs
And we begin to hate the person we are
And the life we are living
The tree's lustrous branches begin to bend and break
Kissing all our fond memories good bye
And replacing them with the presence of guilt, hatred,
and depression

And as life gets worse and worse
And we don't look forward to later
And wonderhow we are going to make it to the next day
And were spinning ouuta control
The trees divine leaves fall and die
And turn ugly just as we are
Only on the inside
And we lose all traces of energy, happiness,
And most of all- beauty
And as we rot inside and out
like a rotten apple that none care to eat
And as we turn against ourselves
And hurt and blame ourselves
And as we slowly bllled to death
as our enemies stab us with their vengence
The tree bleeds
And theres not stopping it
Because it's been hurt just as many of us have
Just as i have
And as the crimson flows down
From the very core of the tree
And the blood red drops fall to the ground
Jsut like heavy rain during a harsh thunderstorm
They stain the ground
Just as i have been stained
And contaminates everything surrounding it
And, as the tree dies
And falls to the ground
And we fall to the ground
Screaming with tears of blood
Running down our faces
Leaving stains that conmorate
All the hell that we've been through

We wonder why ours lives couldn't have been differant
I wonder why my life as a Prince couldn't have been differant
But we continue to die,
Just as the bleeding tree did,
Silently

Prince Jierdan