We Are Tyranu
By Reggieman721

We. Are. Tyranu.
We are very stronger than you.
We. Are. Tyranu.
Our war drum beat in swift tattoo.

Tyrannia is place of strength.
No stranger try to claim our land.
We fight with stick and claw and tooth.
At end of day, alone we stand.

We live together, stay tight group.
Jungle and plateau are one.
If hut burn down, we all help out.
It is repaired when day is done.

We. Are. Tyranu.
No one call us Evavu.
We. Are. Tyranu.
Strength and power through and through.

We may sound odd, but we be smart.
Play Go Go Go and you will see.
You lose to Grarrg and Sabre-X.
And no one beats old Kyruggi.

At night we dance around a fire.
We celebrate that we be free.
The call ring out for all to hear:
Tyrannia have victory!

We. Are. Tyranu.
We are very stronger than you.
We. Are. Tyranu.
Our war drum beat in swift tattoo.

The Grey Faerie
By Oliviatonnu

Forever repressed, she stands alone,
A soul once happy, a soul once roamed.
Crystal tears fall from her grey-blue eyes
Just like water from the heavenly skies.

Lovely long locks cover her back,
Shield her face from the world so black.
Nothing is left for her in this life,
All she can feel is the bittersweet strife.

The golden hair that she once wore
Can never be seen as it was before.
The sunshine had faded to a dirty grey,
Former blue eyes shed tears by the day.

She had lost everything she ever held dear.
Emotion was history; what was fear?
Her name was lost, her soul ripped apart,
Shattered to pieces, her once joyful heart.

What was the meaning? Why did she live?
Why did they never have heart to forgive?
Their promises had kept her under the spell
The bitter truth she would never retell.

The Annals of Insanity
By Anjie

Along the ancient archive walls,
In dusty, untouched stacks,
Scrolls and books to tower high
On broken shelves and racks.

Texts so lost in passing time,
But one all dread to seek.
Watch for it as in your creep,
And down dark aisles sneak.

'The Annals of Insanity'
A text to drive you mad.
Chronicles of puzzling things,
No answers to be had.

Questions none can ever read,
And tales that make no sense.
A tantalising laugh at life,
All at reader's expense!

They say that none complete the book,
Or get to final page.
Those who get to chapter four
Are insane by that stage.

It's claimed the words are back to front,
And often upside down.
Within a quandary of your thoughts,
You'll more than likely drown.

The strangest book in archives old,
The one the readers dread.
There's nothing more insane, you see,
Than books that can't be read!

The Aftermath
By Macana

Among the desert
Dunes he lurks, silent
As the listless rocks
His eyes watch the sands,
Shining like two red moons
Through the lonely night.

The burning gold flame
Raises up the ash-like earth,
Looking for a feast.

The Nightsteed carries
The Prince on his weary back,
A ghost of the past.

They gaze back upon
A cursed city left to
The mercy of wind.

Both know what must be --
They can't afford to sink deep
In despair's net.

The steed turns his back,
Leaving behind a city
And ruined lives.

Long shall they travel
Until the city would come
Back into the light.

Such is the curse
That both of them must carry
Deep within the heart.

The Baby Paintbrush
By Dwelleroflorien

The bristles soft like newborn's hair,
The handle smooth and young,
Made finest with a faerie's care
In Rainbow Fountain sung.

The bow of finest woven silk,
The quality ornate,
Wrapped in a pastel-patched quilt
Without a trace of hate.

It hums a faerie lullaby
Of skies and rainbow bliss,
If baby were to wake and cry
Until the mother's soothing kiss.

A fountain of youth it bears within,
So consider before you use,
For when it touches the aged coat
Wisdom shall you lose.