Yanis (1)

Auf ein Neues! Tatsächlich ist diese Geschichte sogar so neu, dass sie noch keinen richtigen Namen hat, deshalb habe ich erst mal den Namen einer wichtigen Figur genommen. Mal gucken.

Und um es gleich noch mal schwerer zu machen: Ich finde, dieses Kapitel ist nicht so gut geworden. Das hat mehrere Gründe. Darüber reden wir in den Lesegruppenfragen.

Allen, die das nicht abschreckt, viel Spaß!


Generationenschiff (35)

Und das wars.

Ja ich weiß.

Glaubt es oder nicht, aber mir tut’s auch leid. Aber jetzt ist es zu Ende.

Das erste Buch von Generationenschiff. Mir hats Spaß gemacht, und euch hoffentlich auch nur deshalb nicht, weil die Pausen zwischendrin so lang waren.

Bald kommt eine neue Geschichte, und alles wird anders dieses Mal. Ihr kennt das.

Viel Freude mit dem letzten Kapitel!


The Witch

As she spoke words that could never be spoken
As she sang a song that could never be sung
She broke something not meant to be broken,
Triggered a trap waiting to be sprung.

She walked a path that could never be trodden,
She found a plain not meant to be seen,
When she spoke the words so long now forgotten.
She brought into the world what should never have been.

As her mind cut through the eternal veil,
In abstractions too eerie to ever perceive,
She began the telling of this gloomy tale,
She destroyed what the world must forever now grieve.

She awakened a dreamer better left sleeping,
She caused a rift which forever’d been sealed,
Though her gaze reached out to where none should be peeping,
What she beheld should not have been revealed.

For now something’s loose that was fastly chained,
although she knows not what it is she unbound,
For even the witch sees it misty and faint,
What should have stayed hidden has now been found.

Its screams tear the silence which bedded the world,
The earth shudders from steps which should never be heard,
And the rustle of wings never before unfurled
moves beneath each impossible word.

Yet she moves through a realm forever untouched,
and she fears not the rising of this dreary head.
She gazes at sights no one has yet watched,
As her strength feeds a hunger not meant to be fed.

Does she know of the veil now forever torn?
Does she care for the souls she’s left open to reap?
Can she catch what she toppled, will there be morn?
Is her knowledge too shallow, her hatred too deep?

As she moves through a darkness untouched by her light,
As she wonders through halls full of dust and decay,
She cares not for its ancient, unthinkable might.
She cares not, for caring is just not her way.

For she is the darkness, she is all that she needs,
She gives not a fig for your your world, or for mine.
She is her own missing piece that completes
the unthinkable pattern of her perfect design.

So the shadow was spun to reap all the world
By her own impossible words and her song,
as her hands slowly clapped and her skirt slowly twirled,
The beast was her ultimate game all along.

So our lives her sacrifice to her own dreams,
and the trap she has sprung was a part of her plan,
And with her shadow which wriggles and teems
She has doomed the world, just because she can.