Post #1 Mysian anthology fragments (page 13)

POETRY NEWS #4632
Date: 02/28/2014 at 23:00
From: Page Finchy Ithilien
To : Everyone
Subj: Post #1 Mysian anthology fragments (page 13)

On the first day here we found our home fine,
A hill 'pon a gem of sea surf and shine.

On the second day here we gut our fish,
pretty bits of scale to make pretty dish.

On the third day shade, found under our haves,
Crafted from the wood, drifted from the waves.

On the fourth day here seamer came 'pon shore,
They spoke in bubbles, foaming about war.

On the fifth day here we gut the fish,
ugly bits of scale tossed in end, we wish.

On the fifth day here an end was not had,
mer made war 'pon shore and we fought too bad .

On the sixth day here our numbers were halved,
our wounds were too deep, too deep to be salved.

On the seventh day here we sought parlay,
Tired and weary us, of bloody melay.

On the eighth day here no mercy be found,
The mer brought the war, here to our own ground.

On the ninth day here our land was blood red,
On maimed hands counted, the countless of dead.

On the tenth day here, surrender, no terms,
The mer gave us looks, like we were mere worms

On the eleventh day here sentence past,
I write this tale here, As I am the last.

On the twelth day here, in my own last blood,
I die here, heed me, my words are not mud.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Chronos, in the year 648 AF.