Four Years Ago

 

Here’s a little poem to mark Valentine’s Day. Enjoy!

 

Four years ago, we sat by the brook,

And did nothing, but quietly read a book,

While the birds in the adjacent tree gave us stern looks.

Eight years hence, a lot of things have changed,

I’ll admit a lot of it does not make any sense,

We seem to have grown, yet it’s difficult to tell the difference,

Sixteen years hence, you have grown old,

And the children keep asking for another story to be told,

And all those years ago, I gave you my heart,

And it’s yours, even if Death do us part

 

The Bilge Master

Happily Ever After?

Ankur has returned, and this time it's a poem! Give it a read below

Sitting on the terrace, watching the blonde sun dive,
Into the dingy pool of the city,
As I wait for my superpower to arrive,
Killing time with a cup of tea.

To zip into the past, uproot the weeds of pain,
The brambles that choke my creative thoughts,
To sow the seeds of a luxuriant, noble forest
Rampant in the plains of my present mind;

Or flash into the spectacular future,
To build gleaming cities of gold,
With beautiful, mysterious women sunbathing
In dark glasses on the soft beach sand.

I wait with grim brow, marshaling my powers,
Willing them to grow, intent and furious,
While the laughing blonde Sun pirouetted through the air,
Flirting in the arms of the humming breeze,

The unthinking birds flew back to their homes,
While the graying clouds slumbered to rest;
And all the while it was just stupid me,
Sinking in my past, and leaping to my future.

Written by Ankur Roshan

Meet Me at the Gallows

 

Days have slipped by unnoticed,

There have been some changes,

We are at the walls now of their ancient dwelling,

The door is being swept off it’s hinges,

Last time we were afraid, but today there is no fear

Our foes, they have waited and their time has drawn near,

Their scouts speak uncertainty, swiftly they are slain,

It’s time to assemble near that old hill again,

Onward we will march, we will take what is ours,

Meet me at the Gallows, of Gundslag Tower,

And help my hungry blade, bring it a head to devour

 

The Bilge Master