Poems from the Shadows

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Summary

Here's a collection of fantasy/sci-fi poetry that stretches and challenges the boundaries of the reality as we know it. This poetry collection reaches into the dark side of things and pushes the boundaries of reality as we know it. All are fantasy/sci-fi type stories written primarily in free verse like epic poems like the Epic of Beowulf, which provided some of the inspiration for these poems. At least three poems in this short collection are directly related to the Legends of Amacia series I'm working on. Those three poems are The Celestial Cat, Machine of the Ancients, and Nemesis, which happens to be a poetic rendition of the creation of Nemesis by the Emperor's Cadre in Legends of Amacia. I hope you, the readers, enjoy these poems. Please, feel free to comment on any or all of them. I don't usually write poetry, but I did these in a poetry class in UVA to help hone my writing skills. Enjoy.

Genre:
Poetry / Fantasy
Author:
Robert_Downing
Status:
Complete
Chapters:
9
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
16+

Shadow World

The world is but a shade,

A fog of endless dreams and nightmares

None can wake from;

Illusions, ghostly shadows

That blind and sedate the mind.


The world is but a shade,

Wraithlike reflections,

Phantasms seen darkly through the glass,

A twisted chimera that seldom

Reveals its secrets.


The world is but a shade,

Vaporous mists deceiving our eyes,

Haunting echoes of deceit in our ears,

Will-o-wisps floating in the ethereal fog

Disappearing in the flood of sun.


The world is but a shade,

A mocking lie we tell one another

Without even knowing it,

A collective mirage seen

In the burning desert of reality.


When the world is but a shade,

Reality is Chaos unleashed,

A puzzle dashed to bits,

Ephemeral wisps of smoke

Blown in the tempest,

Here for a moment,

Then lost forever

In the swirling void.


If the world is truly just a shade,

Then do I really exist

Or am I just a phantom in the mists?

Is this a crimson garnet here in my hand?

Do these pink roses smell so sweet?

Are the Himalayas a mirage of the mind’s eye?

What about the ocean depths we can’t see

Or what’s beyond the farthest horizon?


How can I be sure

That my senses lie not,

Whether my memories are mine,

Or what is even real

In a world of illusion and shades?


Who is to know

That the world is but a shade,

An illusion fading away.

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