Post by RaditzSoldier on Sept 3, 2005 17:40:36 GMT -5
Characters: Jindinari Zoldifand, Maira Zoldifand
Timeframe: The Inital Attack on Rohan
Genre: Notes of a Survivor
Summary: Jindinari and his sister Maira deal with the attack on Rohan by Isengard.
Notes: Jindinari is often called "Jidin" for short.
A sun shines,
A window sparkles,
A door creaks open,
A man yawns.
This is the perfect day,
This is the beauty of Rohan.
This is where hope endures,
And Nightmares are fleeting.
None of us could yet imagine,
The pain that we yet awaited.
I was called in on by my mother,
As she so carefully brushed my hair.
I had never enjoyed it much,
All my friends laughed at me,
Because they thought it was funny.
On second thought, I didn't really have friends,
My dad was on the field working all day,
My mother was working around the house,
My older sister disregarded me as a shame to her name,
And my younger brother was too little to speak.
So everyday I sat in a grove of trees,
Watching the sky tick away my awful secluded life.
This was a perfect day,
And dare I say it, another,
But I couldn't enjoy it,
For whom would I share it with?
On that day I sat in my little house,
I had made out of wood,
And watched the great green fields.
Then a black dot hovered on the horizon,
A storm cloud
Or messenger from the King?
Nay, I knew it was neither,
But it traveled fast,
And before I could make it out,
An arrow shaft landed near my leg.
I ran to Maira,
But she was quick to disdain:
"Jindin go back to your little hole,
In which I wished you would stay!"
I looked down sadly at the slow green grass,
I ran from her,
She wouldn't help.
I went to the tall tower,
Rang the warning bell thrice,
And the men scanned the horizon,
With a few falling dead.
"WAR!" cried the men, "Invasion!"
They ran to their weapons,
But the creatures were to close.
They lit matches,
And I watched as they went.
My mother was caught in the blaze.
As watery tears blurred my eyes,
I could see the last of my mother.
All these days the one who tried to comfort me,
The one who hugged me,
The one who,
Despite my objections,
Cared for my appearance,
The one who taught me to read and write,
The one who fed me.
The one who I adored,
The one who understood me,
The one whom was not my enemy,
The one who safeguarded me from my foes.
Now she burned as a red figure,
And she burned to a twilight.
Though she had protected me,
I could not return that ideal.
My father, my protector,
The one who had played with me when others declined,
The one that made me feel proud of myself,
Was cut down that day.
And though Maira had hated me,
I had loved her,
She cursed me but I blessed her,
She tortured me and demoralized me,
But I looked up to her,
Was caught by an orc,
And she became no more.
My younger brother was crying on the ground,
He knew not terror but discomfort,
As I watched in horror he became a meal,
For those disgusting orcs,
He was feasted on.
As was my village's custom,
If you lost flesh before burial,
Then joining the spirits was forbidden,
And you must pay with endless torment.
I myself watched the fire,
A blaring red.
It had no mind,
To the lives it destroyed.
It was a bright red,
The cursed color of fire.
I turned with tears full,
And ran.
My body seethed with pain,
My breath was short,
But I ran.
Running to no place,
Just to the endless plains.
Besides, what was life worth,
If it had hated me,
And had torn me apart?
It is so short,
So wasted.
What am I worth,
Other than a scribe to life's horror?
This is it.
~RaditzSoldier
Timeframe: The Inital Attack on Rohan
Genre: Notes of a Survivor
Summary: Jindinari and his sister Maira deal with the attack on Rohan by Isengard.
Notes: Jindinari is often called "Jidin" for short.
A sun shines,
A window sparkles,
A door creaks open,
A man yawns.
This is the perfect day,
This is the beauty of Rohan.
This is where hope endures,
And Nightmares are fleeting.
None of us could yet imagine,
The pain that we yet awaited.
I was called in on by my mother,
As she so carefully brushed my hair.
I had never enjoyed it much,
All my friends laughed at me,
Because they thought it was funny.
On second thought, I didn't really have friends,
My dad was on the field working all day,
My mother was working around the house,
My older sister disregarded me as a shame to her name,
And my younger brother was too little to speak.
So everyday I sat in a grove of trees,
Watching the sky tick away my awful secluded life.
This was a perfect day,
And dare I say it, another,
But I couldn't enjoy it,
For whom would I share it with?
On that day I sat in my little house,
I had made out of wood,
And watched the great green fields.
Then a black dot hovered on the horizon,
A storm cloud
Or messenger from the King?
Nay, I knew it was neither,
But it traveled fast,
And before I could make it out,
An arrow shaft landed near my leg.
I ran to Maira,
But she was quick to disdain:
"Jindin go back to your little hole,
In which I wished you would stay!"
I looked down sadly at the slow green grass,
I ran from her,
She wouldn't help.
I went to the tall tower,
Rang the warning bell thrice,
And the men scanned the horizon,
With a few falling dead.
"WAR!" cried the men, "Invasion!"
They ran to their weapons,
But the creatures were to close.
They lit matches,
And I watched as they went.
My mother was caught in the blaze.
As watery tears blurred my eyes,
I could see the last of my mother.
All these days the one who tried to comfort me,
The one who hugged me,
The one who,
Despite my objections,
Cared for my appearance,
The one who taught me to read and write,
The one who fed me.
The one who I adored,
The one who understood me,
The one whom was not my enemy,
The one who safeguarded me from my foes.
Now she burned as a red figure,
And she burned to a twilight.
Though she had protected me,
I could not return that ideal.
My father, my protector,
The one who had played with me when others declined,
The one that made me feel proud of myself,
Was cut down that day.
And though Maira had hated me,
I had loved her,
She cursed me but I blessed her,
She tortured me and demoralized me,
But I looked up to her,
Was caught by an orc,
And she became no more.
My younger brother was crying on the ground,
He knew not terror but discomfort,
As I watched in horror he became a meal,
For those disgusting orcs,
He was feasted on.
As was my village's custom,
If you lost flesh before burial,
Then joining the spirits was forbidden,
And you must pay with endless torment.
I myself watched the fire,
A blaring red.
It had no mind,
To the lives it destroyed.
It was a bright red,
The cursed color of fire.
I turned with tears full,
And ran.
My body seethed with pain,
My breath was short,
But I ran.
Running to no place,
Just to the endless plains.
Besides, what was life worth,
If it had hated me,
And had torn me apart?
It is so short,
So wasted.
What am I worth,
Other than a scribe to life's horror?
This is it.
~RaditzSoldier