2.7 KiB
| title | description | date_pub | section | content_type | short_code |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Omyt Ottermore | NPCs the party has met on their adventures in the Faewolde. | 2023-07-04T23:11:00-04:00 | npcs | feature | nr01 |
Growl
by Omyt Ottermore
I saw the best otters of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
swimming through the enchanted streams at dawn looking for a morsel of truth,
flowing with the currents of the wild and the unseen,
who bared their souls to the moonlit skies under the canopy of dreams,
and were dragged by the currents of darkness down to the depths of despair,
who dived into the depths of the subconscious, seeking revelation and solace,
surfacing with pearls of wisdom, glistening in their wet fur.
These otters, poets of the river, champions of the flow,
they chattered their verses to the ancient trees, the whispering winds,
their playful splashes, a symphony of untamed spirits,
they knew the secret rhythm, the heartbeat of the water,
in each splash, a stanza, in each dive, a verse.
Their eyes, like mirrors of the cosmic dance,
reflecting the moon's glow, the stars' enchantment,
they dived through dimensions, beyond time's illusion,
seeking liberation, embracing the eternal.
Oh, otters of enlightenment, seekers of the infinite,
your playful frolic, a dance of cosmic bliss,
you swam through the mysteries, unbound by earthly shackles,
your fur, anointed with moonlight, shimmering with divine ecstasy.
In the enchanted forest, your poetry echoed,
a howl of joy, a sigh of longing,
the river was your canvas, the currents your ink,
and you painted verses with each stroke of your tail.
But now, I see you, my brethren, lost in the shadows,
struggling against the tides of despair,
your playful spirit dampened, your poetry muted,
trapped in the nets of indifference and greed.
Oh, otters of the enchanted forest, I mourn your plight,
your innocence tarnished, your souls burdened,
but still, I hold onto hope, the flicker of a flame,
that one day you will rise, resplendent in your glory,
swimming through the rivers of consciousness,
reciting Ginsburgian verses of liberation and love,
reclaiming your place as poets of the wild,
in the enchanted forest's eternal symphony.