Beginning of the Journey - Chapter 1

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Beginning of the Journey

by Brethesen

Libraries: Poetry and Song Lyrics

Published on / 1 Chapter(s) / 1 Review(s)

Updated on

Some random thoughts again, that evolved into this small poem. A tribute for Secret of Mana

The powerful rumble is beside me,

Cool water seep through my clothes,

Warm rays of the sun hit my face,

I open my eyes,

And I see the clear blue sky,

I tilt my head to right,

And I can see the waterfall,

Thousands of litres (gallons to others) flow down,

And hammer the rock below,

I enjoy this frail moment,

Of perfect place for ease your mind,

When your dreams,

And reality collide,

When the world seems to be still forever.


I raise up,

And break the moment,

I look around,

Trying to get my bearings straight,

And start to head back to the village.


Green grass bend’s down,

As my leather boots hit the ground,

Moist soil absorbs every drop of water,

That falls down from my clothes,

I smirk,

And start to walk back to the village.


Warm summer day,

Already drying up my clothes,

As soft wind echoes in the air,

Making the leafs to shake in trees,

And making the tall grass to shake soothingly,

The smell of wet grass fills my nostrils,

As I turn back,

To see where I fell down from the Cliffside.


I can see few yellow rabbits bouncing around,

They also enjoy from the warm day,

And the soft breeze of wind,

As I cross the small stream atop of a fallen tree trunk,

I look to my left,

And I see a sword,

Which is in stone,

A rusty sword,

In middle of the lake,

On a big stone,

Raisig from the water.


I stand silently on the trunk,

Wondering the sword,

When a uncontrolled desire raises from the darkest depths of my mind,

And I jump into water.


My fingers bends against the handle of the sword,

And I try to pull it out,

But before I even know,

The sword is in my hand,

And I’m off-balanced,

I trip,

And fall into the water.


Above the moisture soil,

I stand,

And I feel the sword,

It vibrates from unknown power,

It crawls in my hand,

It speaks to my mind,

It’s alive.


My skin is on goosegumps,

And I watch it with silent horror,

Unable to release my grip,

Unable to comprehend the sword in my hand,

But then it turns silent,

It vibrates no more,

It crawls no more,

It speaks no more,

It’s just a sword.


Not remembering what it spoke to his mind,

He start to walk back to the village,

Not knowing the weight of the burden of carrying that sword,

Unaware of the changed world around him,

Without fear,

Without despair,

He walks back to his peaceful village…

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