RuneScape Forum Archive | Torpeh's Selected Writings

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Torpeh's Selected Writings

~~<><>~~ Introduction ~~<><>~~

Hey all. I am Torpeh, and it is my pleasure to welcome you to 'Selected Writings', a thread wherein I shall be posting what I view as the best of my literature, fictional or not.
Works posted here will range from excerpts of my longer pieces, such as novels, to poems, to short stories, to essays. Some will be recent works; some will be works of old; but no matter when they were written, I hope that you enjoy them.
A little about me, for those of you who are yet to encounter me: I am primarily a poet, but I also write prose and occasionally construct reviews. Indeed, I started off my writing career as a reviewer, and won many awards, including The Academy of Literature's 'Head Reviewer' and the GE Awards' 'Best Contribution to Reviewing'. Recently, though, I have been concentrating on my poetry, and have been acclaimed in that field, too. My best poem, 'Of Those Years Ago', was accepted as one of the seven wonders of this forum, the only poem on that list. My old novel, 'Language's End', also received awards. My best award, however, was probably attained in 'The Collection', as I achieved the top author position.
I mainly write in the Dark Romantisism genre, focusing on the use of supernatural horror. My works have been acclaimed especially, in the past, for richness of description and eloquence of language -- so if those critics were right, you can expect a lot more of them in 'Selected Tales'. My reviews are famously harsh and critical; but due to this, I have decided to cease offering them on this forum, as it causes more bad feeling than it does good, and that is opposite to my aims.
Any criticisms, good or bad, are more than welcome, as long as you back up what you say.
Thanks a lot. I hope you enjoy 'Selected Writings'.

-- Torpeh.

24-Oct-2007 22:36:05 - Last edited on 24-Oct-2007 22:45:38 by [#85QZ2X6LC]

[#85QZ2X6LC]

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~~<><>~~ Contents ~~<><>~~

-- Page 1 --
~ 'Of Those Years Ago': a lyric poem composed one lonely evening. Highly acclaimed, and one of the seven wonders of the forum.
~ 'Be Strong, Young Saviour; Be Strong': a highly emotional poem.
~ 'H. Saltford and the Case of the Loose Spy': chapter 1 of my spy novel.

24-Oct-2007 22:36:26 - Last edited on 25-Nov-2007 18:49:21 by [#85QZ2X6LC]

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~~<><>~~ Of Those Years Ago: A Ballad ~~<><>~~

The sun's last liquid droplets seep
Upon the pearly mountain, steep,
Casting its glinting, golden tears
Into the ocean's ghostly glow;
The looming gloom does slowly spread
Over twilight's slumbering head,
As a choir of stars gaze downwards,
Into each fresh diamond of snow.
From the last white beams of the day,
A vista forms along the spray,
Coaxing countless hues, greens and blues,
Over the ocean's ghostly glow.
The crisp crunch of my careful stride
Weaves between the moan of the tide,
As there upon the forest floor
A crimson mist does lay, lay low.
The pall of phantoms starts to shift,
Shift through each sullied, heavy drift,
Unto my heart – unto my soul,
Unto every forgotten foe;
The tempest of the darkest night
Sweeps down in its tumultuous flight,
And rouses demons from their tombs,
From the crimson mists on the snow.
And there I settle, tired and weak,
Upon that mountain's silver peak,
Watching the hues wash from the sky
As we did many years ago.
I would sit here – you would sit there,
The breeze then running through your hair,
Watching the hues wash from the sky,
Upon this tufted tomb of snow,
—Many years ago.
The glassy seas would always gleam,
As if they wept – wept from a dream;
Your voice would sing its sweet music,
Amidst the evening's ghostly glow.
Yet now the sea is shattering,
The dark, filmy rocks, battering;
And the quick waves do kick, do kick
At the shore some distance below,
—Not as years ago.
The sun would never truly die,
For bright orbs glinted in your eye,
Illuminating your soft form
With every grace of Apollo.
Yet his nebulous jealousy
Prised warming stars away from me,
To sink the song of every morn
Beneath the footsteps in the snow,
—Many years ago.

24-Oct-2007 22:36:44 - Last edited on 24-Oct-2007 22:46:35 by [#85QZ2X6LC]

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As Nyx began to steal each tear,
As nights drew in, drew ever near,
With much of hate and more of fear
Of the affection we did know,
She spread her swathes over your soul,
And each last shimmer, she then stole,
And each last knell began to toll,
For the affection we did know,
—All those years ago.
And sometimes I may feel your hand
Make liquescent paths in the land –
Part winter's snow and summer's sand,
That again your own tears may flow
Down white rivulets, to the sea,
Down white rivulets, to be freed,
Yet sediments of memory
Leave only the echoes of woe
—Of those years ago.
Long, for long I have prayed this day,
When the ghosts writhe, spill in the spray,
And drift with every hue away,
With much of pain and more of woe.
When Nyx's darkness that does spread
Over twilight's slumbering head
Splinters as new star's shine is shed,
With much of pain and more of woe
—Of those years ago.

24-Oct-2007 22:36:45 - Last edited on 24-Oct-2007 22:47:16 by [#85QZ2X6LC]

[#85QZ2X6LC]

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~~<><>~~ Be Strong, Young Saviour; Be Strong ~~<><>~~

The moon's slight ghost breathes kisses upon you,
Upon your never-flitting eyes;
This hour, this minute, you sleep, you slumber,
Beneath the dreamy twilight skies.
And here I sit — I sit and wonder
Why death should slip among your number;
But be strong, young saviour;
— Be strong.
Tonight, tonight, the greatest stars have thronged,
Glimmering in the violet sky;
Tonight, tonight, heaven is torn sunder
To watch your airy form float by;
And all the time I sit and wonder,
Whisper amidst the distant thunder,
'Be strong, young saviour;
— Be strong.'
Your soft, cold face glows in the candlelight,
As it shall glow forevermore,
And the moon and sun, they shall slip under,
Douse under the faraway shore:
For in my wake or in my slumber,
Memories are the brightest wonder.
Be strong, young saviour;
— Be strong.
The funeral bells sigh deep unto the night,
With slow tolling, lonely tolling;
And blood-red tears strike my heart asunder
By the low moan of the tolling.
I hear horns howl; I hear the thunder;
I feel tears gather in their number;
But be strong, young saviour;
— Be strong.
And time drips away with that same old stride,
Amidst the deep, distant thunder;
And your great soul is now where it belongs —
With your great heart, little wonder.
Hearken, hearken to the angels' song:
Times are dark here, but you must be strong.
So long, young saviour;
— So long.

24-Oct-2007 22:36:47 - Last edited on 16-Nov-2007 18:13:00 by [#85QZ2X6LC]

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~~<><>~~ H. Saltford and the Case of the Loose Spy ~~<><>~~
By Torpeh.

I
~ The Case of the Loose Spy ~

With the stealth of a shadow and the senses of a shark, a restless intellect is the most dangerous of all beasts. A singular flutter in a dim ocean of stutters excites it to the point of blind madness. Blessed is he whose eyes remain open.

*Under construction.*

24-Oct-2007 22:36:57 - Last edited on 25-Nov-2007 22:56:58 by [#85QZ2X6LC]