Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Dismantled ~ Canto 4

For five years and an aching score
Had dragged the life of Emindor
Within the Arena’s confine.
He, as one of the Mirkem nine
Fought to retain his place and rank.
The only way that Mirkem sank
From their position of renown
Was when a warrior struck them down
And they were slain for place of fame;
A chance to play this lethal game.
Sometimes an ambitious fool
Would challenge a Mirkem to duel.
Such men nine in ten times would die,
A warning that ‘twas naught to try.
More often now the Master chose
Some warriors as might stand for foes
Of Mirkem. Such one was the man
Whom Emindor had lately slain.
Mirkem challenged Mirkem ne’er,
To last outsiders was their care.
When the Nine were gathered on
The Arena together, then
They would not fight each other for
A higher rank. But Emindor,
Tirrey, Nip’noi as well
As Tareg and Oen-fiel,
Gauthn, Lintes, Dogo and
Thaelon, split up as a band
And on the Arena they staged
An ongoing story. A play
And fight wherein all foes but these
The Mirkem Nine were slain by need.
Nor did the Mirkem play their own
Persons, but acted and were shown
As characters within a lay;
The Mantles ‘neath which they did play
Had many names but not their own,
And this was how the years had flown
For Emindor. His Mantle’s soul
Was dark as night and always full
Of hatred, bitterness and thirst
For satisfaction of his lust.
Kilos, his Mantle, was the name
Beloved by all who watch the game
And play. Such was his great fame
The crowd made glory of his shame.
Oftentimes Emindor would find
Himself caught so deep in the mind
Of Kilos that the cruelty
Of his Mantle was pleasantry.
This horrified his noble heart
And made the love of life so hard
To hold onto. He loathed the stain
That Kilos had given his name.
Would he never be free from this
Cursed well of brackish emptiness?
Most of Emindor’s friends feared not
The net wherein their souls were caught
And saw no harm in turning to
Their Mantles in all they could do.
It would improve their performance
And give them that much more a chance
To live, survive, just one more day
And prove their worth within the play.
Only two cherished not their roles,
The personas which ate their souls.
Thaelon, the silent, secret one
Hated the game, and though he won
Time and again, would not receive
Advancement, nor would take his leave.
He loathed his life, but feared death more,
And had no hope like Emindor.
The other, Oen’fiel named
Had been so long within the game
He’d lost himself inside the play,
Become his Mantle in every way,
Would answer the name Shirako
For he’d forgot his long ago.
Looking on both these warriors, small
Wonder Emindor put all
His hope in freedom from the game
To loose the yoke of fate and fame
Was all he wished. His sole desire
That kindled his soul into fire
Enough to live just one more day
Enough to endure one more play
Enough to watch the good men die
For they would not use treachery.
But the Master insisted e’er
That Emindor he could not spare,
Which yet was true, for Emindor
Was more than all Mirkem before.
The Master said that he must stay
Until his father came someday
To take him home. Then he’d be free
To be the man he wished to be.
“Your father comes. Wait one more year.
If you go you’ll wish you were here.”
So ‘twas for a score years and five
Emindor waited – stayed alive.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Sorry, this one is nowhere near as fun as the previous ones. *cringes* If I was too dry, confusing or just plain boring please tell me . . . Also, the story of Emindor was born to tell the tale of a real-life man in a fantasy setting. Now, that has drastically changed, but the bones and hints of the resemblance are still there in Emindor's personality, beginning circumstance, and relation to his Mantle. But can you guess who the man is behind Emindor?
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Thank you so much for reading and your encouraging compliments. To be likened to Beowulf is great praise indeed. And, yes, I tend to gear all my works for the scholarly because, being exposed to scholarly work almost exclusively from a young age, I find it hard to write otherwise. XD
But, when you say it seems geared toward the scholarly, do you basically mean that it IS confusing?
~

"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's true aim." Oscar Wilde

author comment

Wasted? Whatever can you mean?
Oh, yes, your poetry is amazing! I get excited whenever I see you have posted something new. And you are so much better at being charming/entertaining than I by many a mile. XD
Does this mean you will be leaving NeoPoet? :O I hope not!
~

"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's true aim." Oscar Wilde

author comment

What Emindor dreams and what he becomes, while perhaps turning out similar, could never yet be the same. He has a lot to learn, and soon a character shall appear to teach him.
Excellent! On to the next Canto!
~

"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's true aim." Oscar Wilde

author comment

Rereading the poem and what I said at the end, I realize I was confused when I answered your post. XD No, the man Emindor is based on is not in a place he hates, nor is he waiting for his father's release. I will hint that
1 - he is an actor
2 - he has a similar character to Kilos
3 - the name Kilos is the biggest hint of all. ;)
And now I have probably given the game away
to your supreme genius.
~

"To reveal art and conceal the artist is art's true aim." Oscar Wilde

author comment
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.