Several attempts at a letter, only one sent...

Dear Solongo,

I'm sorry

Dear Solongo,

I miss y

Dear Altangereliin Solongo, 

I hope that the caravan has bee

Dear Altangereliin Solongo,

How have

Dear Altangereliin Solongo,

It has been three months since I've disa

Dear Altangereliin Solongo, of The Striding Stripes

The civil war started not long after I've

Dear Altangereliin Solongo, of The Striding Stripes

Fallstone has come upon chaotic times, but I wish yo

Dear Altangereliin Solongo, of The Striding Stripes

Is everyone safe

Dear Altangereliin Solongo, of The Striding Stripes

Do you remember when I was younger, when you taught me what flowe

Dear Altangereliin Solongo, of The Striding Stripes

Nearly four weeks have passed since my arrival at the Spire Town. It is nothing like I expected, far stranger than the stories about it could have ever described. There is good and evil here in equal measure, and between these I find myself left to the whims of people and forces beyond my control. At the same time, however, most of us are in the same boat. We're all trying to live here, in whatever manner is best for us, even if those means are against each other. It reminds me of the routes across Fallstone.

How is everybody else? How big is Chimeg now? Is Enkhtuya still the little rebel I remember? Has Khulan passed from her injury? May she rest in peace. She carried what we could not for miles upon miles for years longer than any of us ever could. What about Jargal and Naranbaatar, my fellow guardsmen? Have they finally found out that they share love for each other? If not, make them look each other in the eye, I'm sure they'll see it then. And what about yourself, Mama? Have the zinnias bloomed now? How much were you able to earn from honey and garlands since I've gone? Are the dyes selling better, since you've started offering skins and fabrics alongside them? Have you all been able to take care of yourselves, with one less mouth to feed?

That was a cruel question. I'm sorry.

Ever since I've arrived, I've met so many people, some as wonderful as they are terrifying. I know how you hate when I describe faces, so I shall instead give you their names, as I remember them:

Ralomir, Sodalite, Liatris, Klara, Grimshaw, Nergui, Laurel, Grove, Porg, Mania, Pepper, Marionette, Ain, Gambeson, Leclaire, Nia, Meli, Ofelia, Medeori, Azena, Maggie, Lua, Edvard, Thaliana, Madama, Tyger, Icarus, Yves, Altan-Jorix (as I've taken to calling them), Meridy, 

I know there are so many more that I am forgetting, but I hope this much shows you that I am not alone. That has been your concern ever since I first told you how I felt. Do you remember that? At my 14th birthday, when the others were celebrating Faerie's Eve? And I wasn

Dear Altangereliin Solongo, of the Striding Stripes

I'm sorry. I forgot what the flowers meant

6th, Bloomburrow, 1642

Dear Altangereliin Solongo, of the Striding Stripes, Mama,

After nearly a month, I'm sure.

The Spire is the place for me.

May what is mine be yours,

Still your child, Solongogiin Gan-Erdene

A little brown book, inside of which is a growing collection of poems...

Not For Me, But You

Song
And dance
Are not for
Me, but
You

I
Was raised
For strength but
Not the
Tune

Don't
Weep for
Me, for I
See no
Need

There
Seems to
Me, no wound
From to
Bleed

For
I lost
Not a thing
That I
Knew

Heaven-Sent

Its shadow forms valleys, a crystalline spear
Its haft splits the clouds, an arcane unclear 
A call of its name makes the heavens seem near

Bird and Bard

Bird and bard, so different they fair
While a bard's barred from board, the other's laid bare
One barbed with feathers, the bard barbed with hair
One babbled as a babe, while the bird soared in the air
Though one's born in blood, and the other's born in nest
By melody and rhythm, they're both burdened and blest

You Can Only, Once More

You
Can't wipe
Clean that which
Has been
Writ

You
Can only
Write

You
Can't hold
Your tongue for
What's been
Said

You
Can only
Talk

And
One can
Naught but hope
There in their gauche
Tries and tries
Once more
That
The new
Can make up
For the
Old

Turtle

Steel
Shell in
Front and blade
For beak so sharp
You stick out
For the
Bite

You're
One nasty
Thing, my friend

We Are Not

No matter how hidden, I still feel the scales
One look in the mirror, the eyes don't stare back
Devoid of these things, you call yourself lacking
What you idolize, the same as my jailor
I am I, You are You, and We are not the same
We are not as one
We are Not

Pinnacle

In
The Reach
There stands a 
Mount called the Spire
Flanked on each side by
Piles of ash that built it
And brick walls that grow 'pon them
Yet none of these can reach the heights
That the black stone and these fogged glass veins
Have come as one to pierce the sky
And if gem and stone can meet
With stars who fly on high
One can but dream what
All the world's souls
At once can
Do from
Here

Siren Song

Let me be devoured, if only for a moment
Entangled by seaweed under a blanket of algae
Visceral grip clinging vicelike to my limbs
It would not be long 'fore I try to claw out
And reach for the light as lungs burn for air
Though I might escape the clutches of death
How could I forget the sweet way it felt?
All of the fear and the guilt overwhelming
No, I can't forget, when it was always within me

Not A Drop Left

Halved and halved again, no quarter brooked to fill the veins
Emptied out and hung upon a hook, a heart in crimson chains
Pulled in four directions, but not a one can with it stay
When a body's blood's no longer one, it lifeless will remain

Aaruul

All one needs a goat alone
And but a single bucket
Raise atop a little fire
Until the white cries no more
Uncovered under sun then
Let it take on form anew
Sour, hard, and dry, some cry, but to aaruul's owed my life

Knightingale

The passerines sing
For nights in shining amour
But the snake draws near

A Brief Reflection

When I saw you falling, I saw myself
I know it's cruel to hate the prospect
That we might be alike

When you swam to the surface, and I stood the edge
You wore a serenity such that I would wonder
Whether to leave you be or break it

But your myriad mirrors started bleeding
And I know the sound of siren song
I knew I had to stop it

The water was shattered, and so was your heart
You clawed and dove under for vision unseen
Pleading that I let you go

Truly, I considered it
I couldn't bear the face you were wearing then

But I felt you struggle, I felt myself
I thought it cruel to let happen to you
What had already happened to me

I didn't want you to know the call of the deep
I think you already knew

There Was A Home

There was a home here once, where the ruins are
Its hard to imagine, in time not far
That someone might have built it for
A family worth such a daunting chore

There were trees here once, where the forest would grow
Its hard to see the leaves that would blow to and fro
When there stands a ruin of bricks turned to stone
And an ashpile lies cold when it ought not be alone

There was a home here once, and I don't mean the house
But both have been gone, yet I find myself there

Practice Poem

Mourn
The morn
With who's thorns
We're scorned
Forlorn
But torn
From its horn
We're worn
To be reborn
And sworn
Morn

Lily of the Valley

A sudden bloom 'neath
Knighting stars when under Duel
Is where they belong
Bound to poisoned rivalry
When embrace is what they long

For joy's return they
Ought to grow, but only
Turmoil can be found
Where petal bells hang low, and
Troubled hearts make not a sound

Hidden among those
Vernal stalks of flowers white
I hope there is rest

And a song unsung
Yet to be found, until with
Peace you are finally blest

The flowers can wait to be adored
They know you're more than worth waiting for

Pageantry

Peacocks
Fanning out
Their feathered tails
Eyes beholding
Audience

I
Can not
Imagine where one
Might find the place
From which to
Gain that
confidence

But
Seeing them
Man as Woman
Woman as
Man

Ashamed
Yet simultaneously
Unabashedly spreading their
Wings, soaring
High

It
Makes me
Think if there
Is room for one
Such as I
In their
Clan

Around You Go

Cards and crowns, in circles, we change hands
Two aces, you doubled, fail to land
Empty palms, wallet bare, feeling daft
But you smile, all the same, and you laugh

Ugly babe, what they saw, is your name
But I see, on your skin, not a stain
Not a scar, or blemish, on your face
Though you search, in a rush, for your place

It's as if, hoping not, what you want
Is a life, accursed, that will haunt
But my friend, do not fret, it will come
For your heart, if you run, is the sum

Though perhaps, there is room, I am wrong
That you've held, to a pain, for so long
And all you wish is for it to be seen instead of felt

Shipwrecks

My house is filled with the bones of shipwrecks
Pried from the sand and put back together
But not in the same way they were before

Tables and chairs, a handful of projects
Ceiling patches to keep out the weather
And a wheel on the wall by the front door

One might consider it a morbid thought
But soon, I'll have ev'ry part of a ship
And the ghostly crew that used to man it

Whoever they are, whenever they come,
I hope it feels like home

The Stolen Arsenal

I am a weapon, and I've met an arsenal
But I can't help the feeling that I'd only met one blade
It joined me in a valley, though it might not seem its place
And with a single shining slash it found a flower in the glade

It needn't show the kindness, or hearken my woes
But all the same it showed its hilt worn down by cruel crusade
And it spoke like it new me, though our lives were distant things
About being broken for a purpose from which it never strayed

I am a weapon, and I've met an arsenal
But maybe it was just a single weapon at the start
One broken into many, yet even the pieces must take part
I'm sorry you're lost

An Assembly of Notes

Rarity, utility, toxicity, potency
The four primary alchemical properties

Aloe and the bircaroot, to soothe pain skin-deep
Though the latter in excess leaves one without sleep

Bloodweed and chamomile are directly opposed
One brings costly vigor, the other brings repose

Mint and ashroot as well are each of cold & warm
Yet both have found each other mitigating harm

Finally we have butterfly bloom and dreamsage
There isn't really much to compare between them
One served poison, and the other lucidity

Momentum

The stable hand asks "Do you control your strength?"
And I answer "To an extent"
Because I know that
All I control is direction
While the wild horse imparts the weight of my strength
The reins in my hands guide its path
For to hold it back
Is to make a wild charge steady
When war, both at once, demands guidance and strength

Eyes to the Storm

Petal eyes gaze up
They have nowhere else to look
At the raging storm
Across which they cannot brook
Rain like tears are wept
With ruinous howl, it called
Secrets in the clouds
Demand they fall before fall
Quick as it arrived
It left little in its wake
But broken garden
And all of the precious things
That it couldn't bear to take

Looking Glass

How you see me, and
How I see myself
I fear that you think
They're one and the same
But there couldn't be
A greater distance
Than the one between
My heart and my eyes

Twin Sharks

From
The blue
I came upon
A group at shore
In
The middle
Of a patrol
I wondered what for
Fishing
Rod, without
A name, gingerly
Taken into my hand
And
What followed
Were monsters that
I've never seen inland

On
My own
I fished two
Larger than my head
Then
Shadows loomed
Marking the doom
For smaller fish ahead
Sparkling
Eyes imagined
What the shadowed
Beast could even be
So
At once
We, single hunts,
Turned toward the sea

Two
groups of
anglers, many new,
Quickly cast their lines
Both
Fought hard
Against a foe
Native to the brine
Though
Their strength
Alone can shatter
Even giants' mighty bones
Soon
We overcame
Those who never
Saw how sunlight shone

Did we take one too many? Perhaps, but it made a good meal

When Is A Promise Broken?

When you fail to follow through,
Or when you hadn't even tried?
When your body breaks in two,
Even if whole remained your mind?

Is a promise left unscathed
After its words get rearranged
Is a promise still the same
If nothing of the first remains?

What part of a person does it break with first?
The body, the heart, or the mind?
Or does it break against the world?
The stone, storm, or crashing wave?

I don't and can't know how or when
I just hope that I can keep them

Voyage I

Towers
Turned legs
For a lighthouse
Of pale
Flesh

Hundred
Wretched hands
Reaching out beneath
One terrible
Gaze

Singing
Into screaming
To silence, leaping
But caught while falling
There isn't escape
Where she
Reaches

Voyage II

It only gets worse
Walls alive, accursed
Statues' hearts are burst
Mourning minds coerced
Tortured soul, perverse

It's not over yet
Not until, beset
With broken bones reset
And shattered coronet,
She repays her debt of pain in full

It haunts us even now
Toward the Galleon's bow
A giant heart that rings so loud
That peace we are not allowed even beyond its blighted walls
And yet, we are bound to rest within somehow
In reach of the hands of the fruit of Lady Averie's boughs
I sooner feel than see their resemblance

Though she isn't here
It remains, my fear
That lives I hold so dear
Will once more disappear
When we've come so far, and gotten so near
Please, let us be near

Voyage III

The Whale yet remains
But I've fulfilled my promise
At sea, returning

Sleepwalking

There are things best spoken within
The space twixt waking and dreaming
That we yet struggle to conjure
Though knowing it isn't their place
This doesn't keep us from trying
Through blood, sweat, and tears, to hear them
Then with hidden words revealing
Those darkened corners of the mind
They only then recall the fact

There are things best spoken, but never heard