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Hey guys, this is Sara :)
So in my English class last week we were reading graphic novels about different adventures that Beowulf went on, and I came up with this poem. Enjoy!
Also, please feel free to make notes as I am sure I am in need of improvement.
There once was a man named Beowulf,
Who lived and sailed along the gulf.
He fought many foes, one Great above all
Dismembered his limbs, which then hung in his hall.
The Great one, Grendel, was great no more.
Presumed dead on the spot, he’d lost the war.
The people then began to celebrate,
Because, see, Grendel they really did hate!
Grendel, he’s dead, he’s dead!
So now his mom’s really mad,
Got it out for Beowulf’s head.
Beowulf is ready to fight Grendel’s mom.
Mom’s the evil villain now that Grendel is gone.
So down to the lake to rid the world of evil,
Now the next chapter (sorry this rhyme is so feeble).
Fighting with a sword of invincible power,
Beowulf is certain he’ll win within the hour.
Too bad he didn’t know his sword sucks, so now it’s bent.
That’s what happens to the heroes who are over-confident.
Beowulf, he’s a hero to us all
Risking his own life,
Because he’s hearing duty call.
Beowulf is in a pickle, he’s got no weapon now.
Nothing to do but keep on fighting, hope to win somehow.
Then his keen eye- or luck?- spots a sword hung on the wall.
In one fell swoop cleaves the monster’s head, to the floor it falls.
Grendel’s mom is dead, but there’s no celebrating yet.
‘cause Grendel is there too, whining and nursing his head.
So Beowulf kills Grendel too, now no more enemies.
Just got to swim to the surface, celebrate with parties.
THe monsters, they’re dead, they’re dead.
Beowulf swims to the surface
’tween his teeth he’s got Grendel’s head.
At first the people think that Grendel is the one
who conquered and that evil reigning has begun.
Turns on Beowulf has killed the beasties
So peace for a little while, fatten yourself at feast(ies)
Grendel, he’s dead, he’s dead.
His mom’s dead too,
And they’re each missing a head.
So the people lived in peace and quiet
Until then came sneaking in the night,
A dragon with a poisonous smile
Who threatened their living style…
(Beowulf he’s dead, he’s dead.
He flew too close to the sun,
‘cause his ego he overfed…)
Thanks to everyone who lent their support to Ten Tombstones, in writing and in idea-giving!
With this, I bid you adieu. This blog will be handed over entirely to Sara, who will, I trust, manage the blog with tales just as wondrous as those you have seen so far.
This will be my last post for two years at least, so, goodbye, and try not to miss me too much.
Keep on reading, and stay cool!
-Collin
The moment he left, he beheld the chaos. The city was aflame, and the mainland folk ravaged the streets with swords and spears. Women and children were cut down by the natives who had followed Egorias and his group back to their island. They were to be paid back for the city they had burned, and then some. There would be no prisoners, there would be no negotiation. They would all be killed.
When the door opened later that morning, it was Egorias, finally come to check on his prisoner and declare his sentence before the city. Rend had taken the prisoner’s same position in the corner of the room, head slouched to rest on his knees, and for a moment and only a moment Egorias thought that Rend was the prisoner. When he raised his head, however, emotions of rage and shock flooded into him quick enough to lure out a stare and a gasp.
With a click and a loud groan, the door unlocked and was opened. The room filled with light, but all that the nameless prisoner could see were the silhouettes of two figures ahead of him. Wincing, he shied away from them, crawling backwards toward the wall behind.
“Don’t be afraid,” a masculine voice implored. “We are here to help you.”
Rend knelt in the ruin ahead, unmoving and still. He had his back to them. Imerre and Amaris approached slowly. And Rend turned when he heard their approach at last.
“Brother,” he moaned. “Death seems to be chasing me.”
Imerre frowned deeply. “Then Ketsu is dead,” he remarked expressionlessly.
Rend bowed his head. “And there is more than that. A boy from the village stowed away on our vessel. I left him there while I went to rescue Ketsu… I was too late for both. When I arrived here, Ketsu was already dead. When I went back, so was the boy, and the Pure was destroyed.” He rose, looking around him. “Death is everywhere. The air, the grass. They all stink of death. I don’t know how much longer I have left…”
After a brief period of sprinting, the pair settled into a leisurely jog, and finally, just a walk. Dawn broke above the horizon, but they paid it little heed. Imerre was confident enough in Rend’s abilities, worried as he was, that he was the first to slow, and Amaris, in spite of constant training, soon found herself tiring out, her body remembering all that it had been through in such a short time.
It was a half hour later when the party of six arrived at the Honest. Amaris, Evorlette, Karet, Egorias, and Imerre, plus their new captive, were gathered on the deck. The unnamed captive sat in the middle of the oblong circle, wrists and ankles tied securely, and his captors glared down at him angrily. The fate of Ketsu had not been learned, but theories and vague speculation hung dark and thin, like cobwebs, in the minds of the gathered angels.
The battle spun like the flames upon their blades. When a shadow danced nearby, a flick of the wrist dispelled it with reflected fire upon their steel. Cries and chaos bounded in contortions around them. Pumping adrenaline fueled every snakelike motion, every wrathful cry, every flash of metal that brought down another screaming foe.
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