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COLTZAN DAY SPECIAL
the third of my name, and the
day I lost my
prince's title for a king's,
the skies drizzled but drizzle
the gold of the sun,
as if beings unknown and unseen
knew already the things
I would do for my land,
but also how this
reign would end.
The crown upon my brow,
hard with unfamiliarity but not for
long, and with its weight,
came a realisation that
none can truly know save for
those who have
already born this crown,
the kings of old --
it came, I'll tell you,
with the trust of the people and
the knowledge of
what can result from
decisions henceforth --
the promise of glory
grim of collapse.
For I, Coltzan, the
days from this day would be
carefree no more.
The Quest for Knowledge
I scavenge through the sands
Of the desert after night falls
In hopes of finding Sakhmet's history
Through a Neopet who could recall.
I brushed dirt off a book's cover,
'Sakhmet Tales' it seemed to be called,
And upon discovering this item,
I was surely most enthralled.
And through these words I did find
A satisfaction in my quest
To feel closer to the late King Coltzan,
The land's brightest and its best.
But just one tale captured my attention,
As his strength was put to test
Destroying a filthy, wretched Monocerous
Calming his citizens' daily unrest.
Although triumphant as he was,
His rule met a riotous end,
Leaving his spirit to remain
But his body too broken to mend.
And it will stand an awful shame
That he simply could not win,
Against the treachery of Neopian kind
And a simple phial of poison.
The Spirit of the Shrine
Broken winds shatter the dunes,
Whipping by the ancient shrine,
Embraced by esoteric runes,
Shearing 'round its corners fine.
Screaming, swirling, scouring sands,
Wrap around the monument;
Ever patient, infinite hands
Apply to skin the stinging ointment.
Soon the grains take fast their shape,
A garment to the wear-worn stone,
Enfolding like a gossamer cape:
A shadow clothed in golden roan.
The ripple in the sandstorm sheet
Bursts forth into the light.
Emerging from the desert heat,
A figure clothed in white.
Half-raised from the fresh-formed dune
Is the late King Coltzan's ghost,
Paler than the vigilant moon,
He always haunts this post.
Yet past the pallor of his cheeks,
His eyes flash still with spirit.
If you can brave the sandy peaks,
Your resolve shall do you credit.
So steel yourself, the journey's long,
Well-hidden is the obelisk.
But if your will is great and strong,
Expect a rich reward!
King of Mine
well, oh king of mine,
I who served ye faithfully
day to waning day;
when oh sorrow thine
became my own
and thy troubles too;
he who is a soldier,
my true calling evermore,
seeks not to serve himself;
yet always by your side
to leave I would not dream,
never yet abandon you sire;
and if my place by and by
is on the ground at your feet to lie
take arrow for arrow, rose for rose;
then I would always save you.
No sword could evade me,
no lance was sharp enough,
no soul too quick for me;
alas, but for the use of dread
that seeps creeping awful slow
and burns a path through veins;
oh please, my king, don't go!
yet my pleas fall on deaf ears,
and you are suddenly far lost;
once world fades to dust,
the cry goes up, the king is gone!
King Coltzan lives no more;
so like ashes on ashes I crumple
and hurry on fleet paws
to blow away on the leaving wind;
oh king of mine: I come to thee.
As sun reflects off gilded shrine,
Remember Coltzan, king,
Who bravely served his people, and
Whose praises still we sing.
Defender of the helpless,
He who saved a princess lost
And fought against pure evil,
Standing true at any cost.
Defeated Monocerous with
Naught else but two bare paws,
Tirelessly fighting to
Uphold his kingdom's laws.
Coltzan raised two princesses,
Both strong and fair of face,
Who would in turn succeed him,
Ruling Sakhmet in his place.
His life cut short, unjustly so,
Then stolen was his crown,
Which launched a massive search
To bring the perpetrators down.
But wrong was quickly set to right,
And though his kingdom mourned,
Still comfort could they seek in sands
By obelisk adorned.
His final wish, oh noble king,
Who loved his people well,
Was good luck and protection
For who in his lands did dwell.
And so his spirit still lives on
And visits Coltzan's Shrine,
Perhaps if you pay homage,
His good fortune shall be thine.
A Plea to Coltzan
I pray that you will hear my call,
As across the sand I crawl.
With all my strength and all my might,
Will you be there to stop my plight?
I feel the grains beneath my paws,
Burning in between my claws.
But when I call, you don't reply,
I speak no more, my mouth is dry.
You were the king whom I adored;
"No-one will best him," I implored.
And as my faith begins to falter,
I reach your sacred desert altar.
"King Coltzan III, hear me, please,
Will your kindness put me at ease?"
I reach out to touch the ragged rocks
That make your hallowed, towering blocks.
I see a glimmer of your face,
Your ghostly form with all its grace.
I wasn't wrong to doubt your aid,
Hopes restored, no longer dismayed.
I see you smile in an ethereal glow,
And feel something under my feet below.
I look to find Toasted Pyramibread,
On second thought, I'll try Sakhmet instead.
A Moment at the Shrine
Wild sweep winds on desert plain,
They graze the barren land.
There where gold meets endless dune
Does obelisk tall stand.
A sacred monument alone,
Past does the dry wind swing.
A tribute to a ruler great,
A gift to fallen King.
Poison was the good King's end,
Grand banquet, his last day.
The shrine built through a daughter's grief,
More than it seems, some say.
For when the molten sun doth sink
And shadow cloaks the sand,
You'll feel at shrine you're not alone,
As hairs on neck do stand.
Was that vision just a dream?
Or does the good King speak?
To your knees, give fine request,
Of gifts that you may seek.
Gems so precious he may give,
Yet some days you may stand,
Endless, nothing seems to change --
It's just you and the sand.
They say Coltzan doth haunt the shrine,
Continues all good deeds,
For subjects ever true to him,
Shall find he meets their needs.
So bow to Coltzan, now long gone,
And reap the gifts he'll bring.
Pay homage to the desert shrine,
Built for the ancient King.
My Hands Glow Blue
It is a daily habit of mine
To take a trip to Coltzan's Shrine --
A tall and impressive monolith,
Engraved with curious hieroglyphs.
The spirit of the late Coltzan III
Dwells in the shrine, or so I've heard;
Each day I approach where he may be conjured
Saying, "Come on, Coltzan, make me stronger!"
Some days he makes my hands glow blue,
For which I say a meek, "Thank you."
He can whip up the wind and settle it down again,
Summon footsteps and laughter in the distance.
I am grateful for food, although I've learnt
It's often mangled, cracked, or burnt.
I am delighted with increases in defence,
As well as levels, health, and strength.
My Safety Deposit Box is stuffed with gems,
With dozens of Serf (yet no Kings) Lens.
Often the sand feels warmer than usual,
And some days nothing seems to happen at all.
Routinely I visit and see him there,
A spectral vision shimmering in the desert air.
I accept his blessings and decamp,
Hoping one day I'll find a Coltzan Stamp.
A King Remembered
A great and noble king is remembered,
A piece of history from ages past.
A life ended too soon in a tragic tale,
A Neopet of the highest caste.
King Coltzan the Third, we commend you this day,
We will always remember your honour and power.
A King that surpassed all others by far,
A King that would make all the other kings cower.
From your daughters' hands, a shrine was created,
So we may continue to honour you this day.
Yet still, you give back to us when we pay respects,
And we hope you still have something to say.
Thank you for making us feel stronger or faster,
Thank you for feeding our bellies full.
Even those that feel a little more to their pockets,
In our spirits, we can still feel your pull.
King Coltzan, thank you for your peaceful reign,
Your tough spirit when you slayed the mighty beast.
Your strong will when you rescued your own people;
For your honour, we offer this great feast.
Tonight you will eat amongst your people,
Dance with them well into the twilight.
Though you may be gone, your memory lives on,
And they shall see your face in shining moonlight.
Tale of a Memory
Long known as dead and gone,
King Coltzan was but a memory.
An old story of a King,
And an old tale of a Usurper.
Deep in the dusty annals of
History Coltzan was relegated.
Naught but the subject of
A reluctant child's school essay.
But deep within the desert,
Vyssa bid Rohane to do a quest.
"Retrieve the Medallion Wind,"
She said, knowing not its protector.
And so Rohane did set out
To fight each of the evil villains.
Each did fight as villains fight
Against Rohane and all of his friends.
But our hero was not done,
Ergo he continued on his quest.
He came upon an old ghost,
A ghost who had once been a good King.
Bound, King Coltzan had to fight
And to play the part of a villain.
Fight for the Medallion Wind
Was King Coltzan's unwilling mission.
And so with skill yet no heart,
The King fought Rohane and his party.
Despite his battle prowess,
King Coltzan fell to the young heroes.
For the King did fight and yet,
Despite his onus, he didn't fight.
And yet it was victory,
For thus defeated, King Coltzan was freed.
With a spirit now uncursed,
The good King left Rohane some wise words.
Willingly, he gave Rohane
The rare artefact he'd protected.
And with the Medallion Wind,
Our hero tried to speak to the King.
But task done, the King was gone,
Once again no more than memory.
A Shrine to Our King
shrine sits at
the very peak of
a dune of sand in the
heart of the Lost Desert.
It marks the life of a fallen
hero, the death of a much
loved king. Despite the tragic
end the ruler met; his legend
continues to live in the hearts
of his people -- for there is not
even a single Sakhmetian alive
who has not heard of his heroic
tales. The stories of his courage
carry on his name; a shining light
for all those who dare to face the
evils they encounter. King Coltzan
III who cowered before no evil, who
fought for the noblest of cause and
defended the virtues of his people.
The renowned Confidant of Genies, the
Defender of the Downtrodden, and the
Anointed Sovereign of all that is noble
and true, he governed the land with a
kind heart and generous soul. His spirit
still wanders this shrine that rests upon
the sand, blessing and healing all those
who approach it. This magical shrine will
grant help for your battles, if you fight with
honour and courage in your cause. The last
dying wish of the King placed his own magical
crown in this shrine, its power will protect the
whole of the Lost Desert from harm, forever more.
Alone, yet strong, guarding the sands,
The wondrous Coltzan, forever he stands.
Giving out wisdom, Neopoints, and food,
Always willing, his inspiring mood.
Colour of sunshine, gleaming all day,
Travellers come visit, in awe of his ray.
Granting wishes, he may do to you,
Or perhaps nothing excepting hands glowing blue.
Magical weapons or just good advice,
Coltzan is there, helpful and nice.
Hear whispers as you pass, a small breeze,
Unworthy ones leave, watch them flee.
Markings unknown, ancient rhyme,
Maybe one day, we'll discover and find.
Yet solemn he stands, an awe he gives,
The mighty Coltzan, forever he lives.
It's early in the morning as he
leaves his home in the Haunted
Woods. It will be a long and hard
journey but certainly worth it.
He trudges through marshes and
runs through meadows, past homes
and wide-open spaces. Then he
reaches sand as far as he can see.
He has reached the Lost Desert.
Although the sun threatens to
burn through his cape, he presses
on. Keep going, it will be worth it.
And suddenly there, it looms
like a towering building before
him. Coltzan's Shrine. Built long
ago for the brave and just King.
Once a day if you come and he
feels you are worthy, he will
bless you with strength or an
item, or a piece of treasure.
That is why he came today, as
he comes every day. For the
search of Coltzan's Treasure
and for the chance to be blessed.
He steps up to the obelisk; it
seems to glow in the morning sun.
"Oh wise Coltzan, I have come to
be blessed by you!" he exclaims.
The face of a desert Lupe appears
before him. It is he -- Coltzan!
The spirit of the King has risen!
He falls to his knees in respect.
The winds whip around him but
he holds his position, not daring
to look up. The sand grows hot
and when it passes, he stirs.
He looks before him, and there
sits a shiny Dubloon. "Thank you,
King Coltzan!" he cries, reaching
out to claim the treasure before him.
He bows, and then turns and makes
his way back over the hot sand
under the sun. He will come back
tomorrow, for a chance once again.
To Coltzan, from a Lost Desert Yooyuball Player
Upon my armguard, your sigil is
emblazoned, shining golden on this
new day as we step onto
this hallowed field.
We chant -- our tribute to you --
defiant cries over the roar of the crowd.
For Coltzan, for the Desert!
A surge of pride burns within our chests.
The honour of playing beneath the crest
of such a ruler, of such a land.
I can think of none as grand
as the privilege to represent you, oh King,
in this glorious game -- each win an offering
to your glory and might, wisdom and power.
Even as your name is remembered forever
within the Desert, so shall it live
within these Altadorian walls, as we work to weave
the name of Lost Desert into the Yooyuball records.
For, as each of us would say in one accord,
'Regardless of the outcome, at least I know
I have fought for a noble cause.'
Coltzan vs. The Monocerous
King Coltzan III
Ruled over the Lost Desert;
He had a good heart.
He was a warrior;
He defended his people,
One day he showed up,
The creature everyone feared --
Everyone was scared,
Except for their Lupe ruler;
He went to face him.
The beast was too strong
For Coltzan to measure up.
Brute force wouldn't help.
But Coltzan was smart:
He outwitted the monster.
He won the battle.
In the Lost Desert
Big celebration ensued;
Their king had saved them!
For all his good deeds
The king was loved and admired,
A shrine built for him.
So now that you've heard
About this great epic tale,
Go tell all your friends!
They deserve to know
About the king's victory
To protect his land.
Summons of the Shrine
Got woken in the night
By the glowing golden light.
It crept in through the window:
Called me out to the desert sand.
Thought I was safe in slumber,
Then a call that came like thunder
Matched my pounding hooves,
Called across the dunes.
Sure that I must still be dreaming
Or could this be Coltzan's scheming
For the night-chilled air
Warmed as I drew near him.
There stood his shining tower,
A jewel, a desert flower.
Like a touch from ghostly plane
Came a breath upon my mane,
Of Coltzan's ghost:
Almost like he knew me.
His voice pricked up my ear,
"Thank you for coming here."
Then his strength was
flowing through me.
Now no matter where you are
Under Sakhmet's guiding star,
Should you hear his call
Heed the desert guardian.
Amidst the pyramids and the wind-swept plain,
Where many an offering a Neopian would bring.
There stands tall and proud the shrine
Of a long-past, decades-old King.
He is a beneficent king,
He provides to the kind but never the rude.
The sand will sift beneath your feet,
Oh look! King Coltzan has provided food!
The obelisk stands straight like a statue,
It's covered in meaningful runes.
You bring respect to King Coltzan,
There's a twinkle, a flash, a Dubloon!
So remember generous King Coltzan
And you shall fare just fine!
Bring your whole heart when you visit,
The Lost Desert's dutiful shrine.
Journey to the Shrine
Sometimes when I take my daily jog
Into the deepest depths of the desert,
A sandstorm brews, and like a deep fog
I'm blinded and bruised.
But no worries! I've read all the stories,
I know exactly what's in store.
This way leads to a mystical tomb
That tells of a King from long before.
The storm subsides and leaves behind
A golden monolith of untold power.
A King resides within this shrine
To lend his strength every twelve hours.
Heart of a King
Defending his subjects
enthralled his thoughts.
Land as safe as land can be,
the desert had no need to fear.
Courage with no bounds,
to fight his adversaries.
Against any enemy,
he would stand and fight.
Zeal for doing what is right
was the way of his endeavours.
Taking time to think,
villains were taken by surprise.
No evil stood a chance,
when Coltzan was near.
Inspiring to those left behind
bravery and legend builds.
Giving assistance daily,
upon the warm sands.
Kind to Neopians,
near and far alike.
Never shall Neopians forget
the kind heart of a king.
High upon his perch with sagging eyes,
sought after each day towering by the sun,
A gilded King emerges.
The creeping ground whirls up and down,
the days are long and hot;
unaffected, he stands.
Pets come and go,
seeking aid, treasure, and power,
some are disappointed.
Others are more than lucky,
while some receive a rumoured treasure,
or some sandy fruit.
A figure so legendary,
but only whispered in shadows,
for he is gone.
Noble and true,
dutifully he served,
though, he fell to a coup.
His name shall always ring,
the third King Coltzan.
Total Poetry Pages : 1917
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