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Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe Poem
Tis the year of his great shame
It's not his fault, all he did bears no blame
He faced the fickle fate, tried to stand its weight
Ultimately, he still failed, and this poem tells his tale
Paragon of light, the hammer's champ, were just some of his names
Everywhere he came, peace and harmony stayed
Selfless and kind, mentor to the young and famed
His favorite pupil was the king's own heir
He saw his own self in the young boy's flair
Treating him just like everyone else
He imbued the boy with the light's guidance
Together, they fought well, tried to stop the evil's sway
He never knew the prince's soul bore a dark curse
Faced with evil - hatred and revenge seeped into his pupil's braincase
Genocide and slaughter ended up as the prince's favorite ways
He tried to stop his pupil's wrong and erroneous traits
Yet all he attempted was of no avail
Darkness replaced light in the prince's heart
And so their final clash no one could thwart
Evil's triumph, light's fall, our hero's bitter tears outpoured
Copyright © Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe | Year Posted 2023
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Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe Poem
"Golden vagues of chevelure
Bright sapphires sparkle in her face
Her arcane presence tenses air
Lightning fast intellect
Motherly compassion and care
Feelings of trust given to the unworthy
Darken her sparkle forever
Tragic love fades her smile
Her hair turning white
Gone is the maiden innocence
Replaced by strength, coldness and bitterness
Can anyone save her?"
Copyright © Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe | Year Posted 2023
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Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe Poem
"Beata Maria, I know that I'm a righteous man."
Proud and pure, high above the common man he soared
Still young, yet master over a cathedral, his own lord
His brow focused on the high arts - alchemy, medicine and such
Lost his focus one day, it was because of her
The little gypsy girl, the witch who stole his flame
He couldn't turn his gaze from her wild dance
All she had, she showed without shame, no matter the men
At first disgust at this display, later passionate flames
He knew he was in the wrong, but there was nothing else
His high arts out the window, all his brain belongs to her
Going to bed, she's there; Waking up, she's still there
Stalking the showy rake that stole her childish ways
The conceited man lets our hero in on the game
When he's about to enter the gypsy's little frame
Our man enters the picture again, hand held high with a blade
The rake's unguarded back gets hit again and again
The little witch shocked, the rake faint, our man takes escape
"Who is to blame? None other than the little black snake!"
it was his hand, but the fault lies with her
So there is nothing wrong with the judge's ire falling upon her
She goes through hell, saved by a disfigured male
Hidden in the cathedral, long are her days
The hero of this poem finds out that it's her again
Still engulfed by the passion's unquenchable flames
He wishes to make her his only precious gain
The little witch rejects his grace, spitting on his name
"You chose this fate, you damned harlotish ingrate!"
So he delivers her into the guards' hands
With delight he learns of her sullen fate
Hanged on the gallows with the knave sitting on her nape!
Copyright © Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe | Year Posted 2023
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Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe Poem
Oh god Ares, you magnificent brute
You scour the field of battle in your blazing chariot
Followed by the cries of anguish and despair
Of your feeble enemies being crushed and sliced
In your wake only blood and bones remain
As you cross the field of battle
As a living lightning bolt spreading fury and punishment
You are the living fire sent from heaven
To crush the feeble mortals who dare oppose
Those to whom you are the friend.
Copyright © Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe | Year Posted 2023
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Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe Poem
"Stop touching my carapace, fools!"
His booming voice echoed the caverns below
Yet the chosen champions kept their onslaught
Being the master's envoy he had no choice
His obedience was not his own though
Long ago, himself the king of the spiders unknown
His noble life ended with the master's blow
Now mindless tool, caught in master's throes
His last stand against the factions' hope
Spikes pierce the ground, his summons close
His efforts in vain, his master's anger known
Copyright © Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe | Year Posted 2023
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Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe Poem
With the might of nine men
And with his head full of red hair
His brusque fashion and his acumen
He carved his place at the King's fair
There was only one other
To whom he looked with honor
Always by his side, facing danger
Their rhythm together was a marvel
The fate's fickle motions
Caused an abrupt end to their notions
Power of friendship wasn't able
To prevent the tragedy's closure
Braying like an injured animal
He searched his injury's satisfaction
Facing his brothers' annihilator
He continued relentlessly even in failure
Copyright © Nicprotebe Takynicprotebe | Year Posted 2023
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