I feel the sand slide between my toes, as the Dune begins to cascade down to the darkened hole below.
I see the darkened Malestorm swirling and taking the sand beneath my feet, to the horror in the Deep.
It's teeth are white as bone, it's breath as rank as death.
The Dune is slipping between my fingers, my God it's death.
I Feel the teeth clamp around my waist as the pressure becomes too great, lord save me.
It might be too late.
As the sand overtakes my fate.
Once again the dunes are silent and wait for next meal date.
Too bad I didn't make it out I'm afraid to say.
Copyright Michael Robert Triska 2019 This is a Dungeons & Dragons 5th edition game called Enter Sandman. It's a desert campaign
It all started on a night like tonight
It was quiet then too
With the breeze leaving
a small whistle in the air.
Fate on the breeze,
But we wouldn't know that until now
You could hear it though
if you listen to it
Oh, wait is that a crossbow bolt?
Um... this came out of nowhere, and it might be nothing... please critique. I am SUPER uncomfortable with unrhymed poetry, so... let me know what was good, and not so good and why, if possible.
a young warrior fulfils a dream,
one on one combat, and his foe
folds like wet parchment.
a wounded musician, has his back
even as the javelin impaled
in her arm (her spoils)
drips with life.
the clatter of a die.
a number announcing if she survives
is softly reported
[or how Oscar’s help was neither wanted nor needed, thank you very much]
This is part of a series of vignettes from my first Dungeons and Dragons campaign.
chills creep up my legs.
the frost white presence
now awake, rises from cave-stone floor.
the chill is on our faces,
breaths and bodies freeze.
the rogue among us steps,
quick fingers dipping into pockets,
their own for once.
Draconic eyes glint like sapphires,
drawn to the currency,
the two gold coins
held before him
in two confident hands.
echoing through the dark space,
a single clink,
a tossed wink.
and just like that,
the thief had stolen a heart.
[or how Chafon seduced a dragon]
This is part of a series of vignettes from my first Dungeons and Dragons campaign. The dragon's name is White-out and he is now in our party.
bright lights glare down,
shouts and roars collide with white ceilings.
thuds echo from the table
and stomps boom below.
[or how Chafon is an interesting influence, and Aegon seduced an ogre]
This is the first part of a series of vignettes from my first Dungeons and Dragons campaign.
Having a partner with mental illness is not a low-level quest.
Having a partner with mental illness is debatably the best quest in the game and has incredibly valuable Loot.
"I am farming so much exp off of this argument right now."
"I just scored some mad reputation points with your parents."
"Hey, can we do that over again? I didn't get the drop I wanted."
Flesh feasters finds fish framed for food
Thrills for the gills that are dead in his feud
You enter my cavern swords clang, clash, corrupt
Death is my name and my answers are abrupt
My waning in this river of endless sorrow
Unknown are the fates of heroes from tomorrow
Though the bones of long dead dreams hide my hold
Though the endless rush is unceasingly bold
I smite these wanderers casting sickness and famine
This sorrow thickens among the ill fate fallen
My time will come and he, the one chosen will arrive
My will will fail and his sword will thrive
The rope that you’re using to hold me
I crave as my very own,
for I am your woman desiring
and submissive is now what I am.
Your whip might hold such terror
for one who knows not of pain,
for me it’s an object of wanting
that drives me to seek it again.
The gag that holds me in silence
so my protests cannot be heard,
arouses me more than I tell you
as screams are held deep inside.
So much of me needs all this from you
making me want in this way,
I cannot find it with others
only you can control how I play.
The torture you give is sublime now
such suffering drives me insane,
my mind goes deep into meltdown
and beyond anything I can explain.
The force of your lash overwhelms me
with agony driving so deep,
yet I must take all that you give me
as you dry the wet tears when I weep.
‘Tis then that you hold me so softly
with arms around me so tight,
to know that I am your slavegirl
and suffering for you is so right.
From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 **** Verses 2017
I write of what I know from life as I have lived it. ***** yes, but in the company of liked minded people who have invariably been kind and courteous in parallel with their sadism.
My book of collected verse is on Amazon (Francesca Anderssen)
on kindle and paperback, together with my **** Novel "Need" which is semi autobiographical.
Now tell me such a tale sir
while I am tightly bound
of captive maidens held sir
where evil knights abound.
Then taken to be used sir
in their castles of renown
of tortured girls so sweet sir
who are forced so to kneel down.
Then tell me of the dungeons sir
within the fortress drear
with chains upon the walls sir
where I might be held in fear.
Then show me what it means sir
to be such a prisoner
where nothing else is real sir
but myself as a damsel fair.
Then make me live the thought sir
that I might so lie within
and tortured all day long sir
for each imagined sin.
Then secretly find pleasure sir
in all that’s done to me
while my knightly captor sir
has me on my knees.
Then eventually confess sir,
to all my worldly sins
while my sadistic lord sir
is making me more commit .
Then tie me even tighter sir
with every knot aware
rough ****** I now need sir
to think myself as there.
Then make me taste your whip sir
to force me to submit
of the marks you leave sir
you care not a single whit.
Then take me as you will sir
and drive me really wild
make sure I’m deeply kissed sir
where I feel it burn inside.
Then hold me in your keep sir
and bend me to your will
and use my body more sir
for my needs are never still.
Then stand me on the brink sir
and show me just the edge
of where I shall be pushed sir
with just the slightest nudge.
Then tie me up and leave sir
to dream and squirm at will
of the ways I might be used sir
in your castle on the hill.
From the Francesca Anderssen collection of 101 **** Verses 2016
I write of what I know from life as I have lived it. ***** yes, but in the company of liked minded people who have invariably been kind and courteous
My book of collected verse is on Amazon (Francesca Anderssen)
on kindle and paperback