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DRAIK DAY SPECIAL
Ode to a Faerie Draik
Drifting on the cyan sky
Like turquoise seafoam on the clouds,
Every scale shines sparkling bright,
Untouched by shadow's slinking shroud.
Transcendent beauty makes her seem
One part mirage and one part dream.
Sky-blue wings barely flutter
To keep their master in the air.
Her pale blue chest skims the cloudy wisps,
Ever-radiant in the sunlight's glare,
Glittering with unearthly sheen
Like a faerie princess or a queen.
Her eyes, aglow with vitality,
Draw in her world of luminescent skies
Where the landbound only gaze and wonder
What it feels like to soar up high.
The sky is her domain to take
And ever soars the Faerie Draik.
Draik of the Tyrannian Realm
Where the winds are hoarse and dry,
Where rain won't dare to fall,
Gaze scanning 'cross the barren realm,
A creature, standing tall.
Sepia, such natural hues,
The webbed sheaths span so wide.
The creature of the ancient world,
His bright gaze cold with pride.
Tyrannia, a fallen place,
And yet he still remains
Waiting on the dry plateau
To greet the absent rains.
Tribal tone and rhythmic drum
Do echo 'cross the plains.
The realm is one of endless space,
Where seldom come the rains.
Golden grass bows to wind's whim,
Scorched by the molten glare.
Here the mythic creature treads,
In form sublime and rare.
Here he stalks the ancient land
Lit by the scorching heat.
On the sands fall each footprint,
Trod to a tribal beat.
Draik Day: The Victory of Swordmaster Talek
The battlefield rang with cries of warriors,
Sounds of machines and heavy weaponry.
Clashing swords and swinging chains
Rippled the air with merciless mirth.
At the heart of all the chaos,
There was a fighting figure,
A silhouette so full of girth,
So copious and so tall.
Rage threatened to burst through his chest.
No, he was not a monster,
He decided to himself.
No, he was a master.
A bellow expelled from his chest,
One that gathered all attention.
The dome of soldiers were silenced;
Weapons hung motionless in mid-air.
"Maraqua!" he cried through tears of passion.
"Onward, my comrades, my courageous friends!"
He raised his sword and brought it down --
The war was at once begun once more.
Neither side was winning,
And the atmosphere was tense.
The pirates of the enemy side
Smirked as they fought.
Despite all this and all that,
Maraqua proved victorious for all to see,
For nobody could defeat
The great Swordmaster Talek.
For One Aged Darigan Draik
One Draik, one aged Darigan Draik,
A hunting shadow on the prowl,
A silent shade amongst the trees.
Cuspidate claws chew through the mud,
Yet no sound do they make;
No branches snap, nor leaves murmur,
Nor nary breath dares to escape.
Control has this Draik of his environs,
So too control over himself,
He passes close by, yet unnoticed,
With the power to in penumbra melt.
No sound eludes his alert senses,
With ears splayed out like Korbat wings.
The air is tested with barbed tail
As rhythmically it bobs and swings.
Two horns curving to the welkin
Make him appear nefarious.
An ashen mane does frame his features,
Vermilion eyes like burning brush.
And so he stalks within the gloaming,
One fearsome Draik amongst a pack,
Awaiting Lord Darigan's call to battle;
A hunter poised for fresh attack.
The Challenge to the Storm
Braved the storm the bravest crew,
Roiling ocean like witch's brew,
Cutting through the choppy waves,
Past the grasp of the watery graves.
Atop the nest and gripping his hat,
A mighty sailor with dreadlocks matte,
Laughed into the raging tempest,
Laughed hard and laughed the cruelest.
The pirate Draik unfurled his wings,
Tattered membrane, ruined things,
And embraced the injured sky,
With a gleaming, maddened eye.
"Rocks ahoy, brace to starboard!"
Yelled the Draik upon his horde.
The ship groaned like a wounded beast,
As strength afresh by the crew was leased.
The black-cloth sail was left in ribbons,
By wind and waves coming in gallons,
As seasoned planks ripped from the hull,
All emotion was left void and null.
At last the weather settled calm,
An ocean breeze as a salty balm,
The crew, exhausted, moored the craft,
With arms too weak, and backs too chafed.
The last to leave was the pirate Draik,
With gleeful eyes to the ravaged wake,
He shook his fist to the clear blue skies,
A triumph to the storm's demise.
Tired and weary were my eyes,
Surely what I saw were mental lies;
They moved in unison one by one,
Oddly marching without being spun.
Had my toys just come to life?
Or was I experiencing mental strife?
Wind Up Red Draik Toy;
Wind Up Green Draik Toy;
Wind Up Yellow Draik Toy;
Wind Up Blue Draik Toy;
I have all just regretted buying,
After seeing them trotting and flying.
I can definitely say my mind is blown,
Seeing as they had a mind of their own.
I admire Draiks, agile, smart, and tough,
Such a wonderful pet I can't have enough.
The toys are my closest thing to a Draik,
But they're coming to life for Fyora's sake.
They turned to me and began to move,
A phenomenon which I could never prove,
And just as fear began to seep,
I quickly awaken from my sleep.
Knowingly overtaken by dream's embrace,
I wipe the astonishment from my face.
Miles and the Wheel of Knowledge
A scholar Draik with scales of green,
Eyes of red and wit too keen,
Had a dream to help the land
And educate them by his hand.
The faeries had a wheel of sorts
To hand out prizes and retorts.
Miles, for that was his name,
Wished to do the very same,
A spinning disc of shining glass
By which his knowledge on would pass.
He went around the other stores
To ask donations for his cause:
Tasty and disgusting fruit;
A shield for each armour suit;
Motes for use in the Battledome;
Piles of learned scrolls and tomes;
The magic of the Healing Springs
And pearls of wisdom from the King.
Across the arc the icons spin
As proof to all: he who dares, wins!
Now tourists come from near and far
To seek the fabled avatar,
So poor Miles stand there every day,
To keep the roaring crowds at bay.
And poor old Miles, his dream achieved,
Is not as pleased as he believed.
He slinks back home at start of night,
His tail twitching left and right,
He crawls in bed and drifts away,
Dreaming of the good old days.
Searching for an Egg
So you want yourself a Draik, huh?
But how to obtain this goal?
Be it by egg or potion,
There are many ways to go.
Now Morphing Potions are expensive,
And Transmogrifications much too gross.
So you've decided to find an egg
To get this pet you want the most.
Your first stop is the Trading Post,
But you can't afford the price.
Twelve to twenty-two million points?!
You think to yourself, "Yeah, right!"
You ponder for a while
Head to the Haunted Woods
To an attic filled to the brim,
With all sorts of treasure and goods.
This option seems to be promising.
However, you are not alone,
Many players heard the same news,
And before you know it everything's gone.
Finally you head to Meridell,
Because there are rumours floating 'round
Of Draik Eggs being sold
By a Meerca, short and round.
The same thing happens here, though,
That happened in Neovia.
And you throw your hands up in the air,
And with that you decide to give up.
On your way home, though, something happens,
A Draik flies past o'er your head,
And after staring for a while,
You begin your search again!
The Birth of a Yellow Draik
I slowly walk into the cave,
A room so dark and hot.
Many purple, blues, and browns
And light on a certain spot.
I hold an egg, so valuable,
So precious to my heart.
I look around for where to lay
The egg, and where to start.
I find a bed of orange,
The sun above the nest.
I place my egg so carefully,
For it to stay and rest.
I stand and wait patiently;
The egg begins to crack.
A tail, an arm, and a leg, too,
Along with a head and back.
He stretches, then looks around
To let me know he's awake.
I run to him, my little pet,
A beautiful yellow Draik.
A Desert Vision
Brilliant rays of scorching sun,
Where heat doth dance in waves,
And naught else but the arid wind,
Upon the sand engraves.
A burning vision high above,
Bright scales do gleam like gold,
Perched upon an ancient shrine,
Her burnished wings unfold.
Glorious queen, exotic nymph,
She soars o'er her domain,
Call to her, she'll answer not,
To chase her is in vain.
Twisting, twirling 'cross the sky,
With ease of ageless soul,
Her form a blur of fiery grace,
In infinite control.
Azure orbs, her lucent eyes,
Gaze deep into the past,
Flames doth flicker deep within,
A spell upon you cast.
Trust not sight, for desert sun,
Intent on sabotage,
May tempt your eager heart,
To worship beautiful mirage.
Pacing in the heart of the dungeon is Valrigard,
Armed with just a sword, he shall battle hard,
Fighting with passion to escape from injustice,
Betrayed and framed by those that he trusted.
Notices a shining key, plan ready to be put in action,
Runs out, forced to become the guards' assassin.
Feet softly padding down the damp corridors
At every turn an obstacle, making the meek forlorn.
But not our hero, blazing with fiery passion,
Keeps a stony face leaving another enemy ashen,
Grabs a star from afar, then spars with the guards,
Disables the opponent and leaves them scarred.
Jumps onto the next platform, flies to new heights,
He fights not for violence but for his rights.
Squeezes between two lava drips, nearly burned,
But learned fast and turned away, unconcerned.
Weariness begins to settle in with no exit in sight.
Mind falters and wonders if worthless was his plight.
Once a warrior, always a warrior, pushes onward
This Draik's determination cannot be conquered.
Finally a door appears that stands out from the rest.
Somehow it's the best, the end of the quest.
Storms through, expecting a breath of fresh air,
Filled with despair as a floating creature glares.
Identifies itself as the wizard and hurls a ball of fire,
Valrigard dispatches and escapes from the spire.
Mind resounding with the joy of freedom
Doesn't ask the question who freed him.
The Great Draik Race
Red's scales are flashing in the sun;
Blue proclaims, 'It has come!'
Yellow raises his head to the sky;
Green's wings raise her body high.
Royalgirl smiles, 'Today's my day.'
Royalboy smirks, 'Yours? No way!'
Maraquan's swimming through the sea;
Faerie calls, 'Wait up for me!'
Plushie fixes a loose stitch;
Halloween cackles like a witch.
Pirate declares, 'For the shore!'
Ghost bemoans, 'Nevermore!'
Brown makes his way steadily along;
Christmas breaks into a song.
Cloud sings as well, a bit off tune.
Island notes, 'Let's get there soon.'
Magma rises from the pool;
Ice won't wait for him to cool.
Split can't make up her mind;
Mutant's left them all behind.
Baby's carried by his sister;
Camouflage complains, 'I've a blister.'
Checkered keeps running ahead;
Zombie growls, 'I've lost my head.'
Checkered's waiting for her mom;
Electric's been ready all along.
Disco wants to smell the flowers;
Darigan threatens to use her powers.
Desert's sweating in the sun.
Gold complains, 'It's just begun!'
Glowing notes, 'It's all about timing.'
Fire whirls on them; 'Quit your whining!'
Shadow sticks to, well, the shadows;
Silver can't see why he still goes.
Purple's tired and wants to stop.
Speckled dropped her lollipop.
Orange can't seem to read a map.;
Striped declares, 'Give me that!'
Starry thinks they should travel at night;
Skunk interrupts, 'We've lost White!'
Robot's taken her under his wing;
Tyrannian's forgotten everything.
Spotted could not care any less;
Rainbow gasps, 'I've torn my dress!'
All raced to Pet Central for Draik Day,
But who do you guess was first that day?
If you're sharp, and you are, I think
You'll know that the winner was tickled Pink!
And we're off!
You know the feeling.
Flying with Draiks -- how appealing!
A swoop, a dip, air currents fall!
Draiks speed by, in sizes all.
To touch the clouds
Might be your dream.
Draiks agree: it's most supreme!
They would know, for they soar;
Standing on the ground's a bore.
Looking up into the sky,
They all zoom past in colours bright.
Would they make a brilliant night?
We'll know quite soon, because the day
Will come faster than you can say:
This is it!
And before you know it
New Draik colours really show it.
Standing tall and standing proud,
Draiks of all sizes form a crowd!
Such a time -- can't you tell?
We're all proud of Draiks today.
Together, we'll all scream HOORAY!
Because, of course, the day we love --
It's Draik Day we're so proud of!
The Gathering of the Draik
Reptilian wings cut the night,
As keen eyes absorb the sight.
Thousands of figures claim the air
Making tonight an occasion rare.
Some are babies, some are blue,
Others range in every hue.
Some are large, and others small,
But to them, this matters not at all.
The royals lead their comrades far,
As mutants soar from star to star.
The zombies tend to lag behind,
Helping the robots when they need to wind.
As Draiks, they are no common sight --
Each individual possessing epic might.
They come together once a year,
And together; they all cheer:
HAPPY DRAIK DAY! SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!
With a slash of a maractite sword,
Even the strongest is defeated by the warlord.
Loyal and faithful to King Kelpbeard,
Even the name 'Talek' is feared.
Steady and serious when battling,
Diligent and determined when training.
The master of maractite had trained many,
Ranging from Scorchios and maybe Lennies.
When Maraqua was being rebuilt,
Talek trained warriors to prevent dispute.
During the reign of Captain Scarblade,
Talek was the price the pirates paid.
The hero defeated the tyrant at last,
And now Scarblade is an outcast.
We must all thank Talek
Especially when he puts his life at stake.
Total Poetry Pages : 1915
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