Original Submissions by Wayani

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  A poor, common girl.
  Added on Aug 12, 2012

  Composed by Seeker Ayla of Konviwedu for her first and truest love, Arkesh Kadius.

  ---

  Don't leave me here, alone and empty;
  for I know you could fill your bed aplenty.
  
  I know that this poor common girl ...
  Is not fancy enough for the refinement of your world.
  
  Your duties and mine keep us apart -
  And yet I wonder if I still truly stir your heart?
  
  Am I only the simple common girl,
  who dresses and speaks unlike her parented churls?
  
  The one you ornament in the richest of silks,
  to have only -your- hands unfurl?
  
  Do you truly believe you were meant for me?
  A poor common girl who's never worn pearls from the silt sea?
  
  And even encrusted in such jewels feels completely empty?
  Tell me love, tell me truly please.
  
  So that my heart might rest with ease,
  within my false bed of pretty tapestries.

  Don't leave me here, alone and empty;
  for I know you could fill your bed aplenty.
  
  I know that this poor common girl ...
  Is not fancy enough for the refinement of your world.
  
  Your duties and mine keep us apart -
  And yet I wonder if I still truly stir your heart?
  
  Am I only the simple common girl,
  who...
  Continue Reading...
• 

  Stone Hand's Song
  Added on Aug 12, 2012

  Composed by Seeker Ayla of Konviwedu for the Byn's half-giant, Stone Hand. He had asked her if she could make him wings so that he might fly, but died before she could finish her task.

  ---

  Bound to the ground by the thickness of the breeze,
  the volume of my body and the thud of my feet.
  
  I should like to flit through the air like a verrin,
  but my arms are too wide, my limbs thick like meat.
  
  So I ask you, pretty crafter, what do you know of fashioning wings?
  Would it be a hard thing to accomplish, for someone as big as me?
  
  I'll pay you anything if you can give me something,
  that'll make me fly through the desert with ease.
  
  So while you begin to sew the feathers, lacing them with string,
  I'll lie down and rest and dream of someday flying on the breeze.
  

  Bound to the ground by the thickness of the breeze,
  the volume of my body and the thud of my feet.
  
  I should like to flit through the air like a verrin,
  but my arms are too wide, my limbs thick like meat.
  
  So I ask you, pretty crafter, what do you know of fashioning wings?
  Would it be a hard thing to...
  Continue Reading...