Grag's Collected Poems

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This book simply bound in leather with little adornment.
On the inside cover is writen Grag Tharashk: Poems''


In each heart
lies life and death
joy, pain, and sorrow
and everything else

What we show, what we feel
determines who we are
yet change can come asudden
an unforseen forking of life's path

Never think you're set in stone
(save if you've been petrefied)
any choice can be counterbalanced
if you need to be rectified

Darkness can be lightened
as light cloaked in shadow
a lover's kiss can turn to poison
or a foe's hate turn to love
nothing is beyond change.


To have this moment last a lifetime
if it must not last forever
To remain within today
and throw away tomorrow

If we could live as mayflies
whose whole life spans a day
Hold close, each to the other
for what would seem forever
living only for today

To keep our skins in contact
and each to feel the other heart's vital beating
would we be wise to live
for today alone?
and worry not for tomorrow?

Untitled I

Vast gulfs of air lay between us
the wind moans your name
like a man's dying breath
a sound that mocks me
and hightens my lonliness

Time's vast expanse stands
on opposite ends we find ourselves
allowed niether to begin our time together
nor to end our lonliness

You and I from different worlds
spread apart yet drawn together
let the Planes of the Wheel
rage with unbridled zeal
still will we return
and end this lonliness.


I dip my quill in ink
yet know not what to think
as I stare at my page

I sit with my untensils
impotent before me
no inspiration is forthcoming
though threw me flow sorrow, joy, and rage

I play a moment with that last
or does it play with me?
toy with thoughts of angry jealousy
take a sigh
and let them pass

my hand carries quill with its attendant ink
flowing across the paper leaf
and then I realise what I've done
the page is now so much fuller
than when I had begun.

Untitled II

I am not saintly
nor am I vile
I am merely a person
whose soul is on trial

I question myself
and seek always improvement
yet constantly facing
my own hypocricy

I am presented to all
in all my complexity
to any who wish
to accept or reject me
I leave the choice
holy to you.


I walk from each moment to the next
often incoherant
and more often depressed

As I take my paces
I struggle to be
unsure of my true identity

sometimes I wonder at the words which I speak
sure, they are pleasing to the ear
but might they be just lies?
What can you percieve
with your prying eyes?

The Revisionist

Through years as through days
even hours, minutes, moments
events conspire to develop
in ways which do not please us

Yet what has past is past
there is no known way to change it
Gnashing teeth and wringing hands only brings more pain
So, why woudn't one refrain?

Each broken bond brings freedom
along with loss' pain
half-blind eyes are those that on the latter train.

That which fails to slay
only serves to strengthen
And just as every year needs some rain
so every life requires pain.

Untitled III

Lives were lived
that are now over
weather ended by hand of time, god, or mortal
matters little
The sun has set on those days past
and stars have lost all noting of them.

But they are not gone (faded to nothing)
not at all like whisps of vapor

For in all things, new from old is forged
and those who've past come forth again
Ready once more to be etched
by twin dies of joy and sorrow
Ready to be painted
in colors of sin and innocence.


Darkness seems inescapable
when light is unseen
so dispair is engulfing
when you have left me

When you are gone
there is but a hole
come, my dearest
be the light
to ignite my soul


From each to each connected
thin strands of need or friendship
Span the gulfs between one soul and its fellows

As time passes old links may wither
or young strands may arise
weak strands come unglued
strong ones might survive

If one is uncautious
he may find himself in a tangle
cocooned, like a spider's treat
left paralyzed

If one is too cautious
she may find herself isolated
with too few conections to resist
the pull of a bottomless pit

If one finds the mean
there still is no garuntee
their life will be found pleasant
but at least, there is the chance.



A Mind
or a Door

or leave for others to

It's all up to you

weather to play it safe
or throw the dice

Tempest of Fate

Day follows day
as hour by hour
you toil to remember
what you were after.

You win some
You Lose some

Between opulence and starvation
you bounce
Fates of the nations mean little to you
On opportunity you, like a cat, pounce
And so learn another feline was after it, too.

You toss and you turn about in your sleep
Much like you are tossed when awake
seeking any spar, or lover, to hold to
caught within the tempest of fate.


Am I deep as an ocean
or a shallow puddle?
is my light my own
or merely reflected?

What tides rule me?
Cause my inner sea to overflow with anger?
Twisting word and deed
into unrecogniseable confusion?
what can be my conclusion?


I try to remove this taint on my soul
or perhaps a hole
lingering conncetion to death
it wont go away
though my link be reduced
it is here to stay

Helping Hands

To aid my fellow mortals
how shall I proceed?
Do I sow disaster
with my well meaning deeds?

If I offer help to you
will you take offense?
or will you take advantage
to harm innocents?

Yet if I hold back my aid
from fear or prejudice
how can I call myself
anything save knave?
Or coward.

If I hide in my patch of light
afriad to enter even the slightest shadow
how can I hope to aid
those whose needs are not shallow?


At last the day arrives
to the lake I journey
there to find
my beloved bride

As many folks as I have known
might be seen to gather
a keleidoscope of color, race, and dispositions
all have crossed the paths of two lives

Now the time appoaches
and we show the world
that these two hearts
have syncronised
that two lives have joined as one
for all our mortal days


Delays and diversions
seem to be our lot
no matter how we run
there is still more road to trot

frustration seeps in
accompanied by anger
ruled by fear
that our destination will never near.


You've been gone
for forever and ten days
or so it seems to me

with your disapearance
lonliness creeps in
it becomes quite the clammor
strikes my heart like the cruelist hammer

the fear mounts
often making me pout
hiding my wonders
of where to hope for succor

Run Around

Your silence is deafening
and terrifying
to me

without confirmation
my worst hallucenations
spring to mind
and wont go away.

For Love of a Sister

cry your tears
but know not fear
of those who love you

cling to friendships
you hold them dear
and we would never flee your need
nor leave you in the dust strewn road

you needn't seek your path alone
nor must you feel you need atone
our love will be yours always

the road you are to trod
has not yet been laid
donot be afraid
that its destination is already set

donot force yourself to fit
into any ill-shaped hole
donot take a role
forced on you by others

Know that while we might not always agree
you still are family
I will always call you


Teardrops fall
blood will boil
Pain and angst and sorrow froath

Love and Hatred intertwine
like errant strands of hemp and silk
twisting knotting convoluting
untill they become indistiguishable to my eye.

And then I blink
heave and sob
And all is clear once more.

Hope and Fear

all I can do

that she returns to me
that the vectors our lives have taken
continue thier intersecting courses

that what seemed so certain
has not been made impossible
that we will meet again

all I can do

what I feel most strongly

the senation that paralyses
leaves me numb after searing pain

my heart's breaking once again
shattered pieces impale me like shards of broken crystal

I strongly feel my


Fled beloved
return to me
can I persist
absent your company?

Fled beloved
run no more
join me by the lake shore
in the City of Andrinor

Fled beloved
what would you do
were I to flee
after you?


solitude has its uses, I suppose
may you find
sweet repose

my love
I'll be here
when you awaken

Daily Grind

Good days
Bad days
blurring by me
can't tell the difference anymore
no longer keeping score

Bad days
Good days
niether matter overly much
they all bearly touch
the ultimate fate

No matter how many I heal
there still will be more
no matter how much I love
I'll still be tainted by hate
my challenge is great.

Idyle Hands

Why do I bother
to write any words?
why do I bother
to write poetry?

I am no bard
they give me no sustenace
and often times
grant no relief

Why do I use
this pen and this ink
why do I comsume
all this blank paper?

do I really
want to know


I need a voice
to tell me I'll be okay
that I will get through this
that what awaits me is worth it

I need a touch
to calm or embrace me
a friend I can reach out to and feel
so I know that friend to be real

I need a hand
with the burdens I carry
or rather an eye
to identify them

I need


Two ships passing
on an unclear night
each notes the other
for but a moment

then each is swallowed
by the mists of time and distance
like soliders lost
in the fog of war

I do not wish
for us to be
Two ships passing
in the night


I construct my wall
for my defense
and man its ramparts
day and night
defeding against
enemies unseen
yet still very real
to me.

Untitled IV

Where did it go
my idealism?

from whence comes
this heavy cynicism?

do I lead those I call friends
on paths of death and doom?

do I offer hope of redemption
or do I lead to damnation
for souls whose purity would be untainted
save for my delusion?

am I to walk alone?
can I find a way to atone
for wrongs I feel I've done
but cannot name for lack of knowledge
though I seek all my days?


cracking under slightest strain, suddenly
explosion BOOM
or implosion?

or death
or change
or is it all the same?


How unoriginal I am
a mere echo of other lives past by
angsty, like a child
weakly snapped
like a toy child's sword

tearful, as if
I am the main
in a long running tragedy
who's fate is sealed
and known by all the auidience
but unknown to him.

writen reread
uncountable times
well posted
my list of crimes
all have been done before
millions of times
oh, how unoriginal am I?


Writing letters
never sending
leaving them to gather dust
and cling with cobwebs, and smell of must

writing protestations
for my feeble cries
brought easily by anything
the least not to my liking

without direction
nor point nor aim
exploding, imploding
and repeating myself

Letters writen
and best left unsent?

Untitled V

Ruthless or kind
a Healer or Killer?
do I destroy or create
do I give or do I take?

A Parent or Child
beneficient belligerance
am I

self condradicting
and highly hypocritical
without a leg on which to stand

how can I be
such diseprate things?
I know naught
save that I am.


I grasp a reed
my grip is too strong
or the stem is too brittle
the reed shatters, and pierces my palm
now I am drowning in waters of red


Hope springs eternal
and is the eternal fool
though she is repeatedly shown wrong
she seems to never learn

yet despite her folly
it is she who endures
and sustains
when no other wheel is to be had

Local Weather

or nearly so
mass of air
whipped to a cyclone
void at its eye
and void without it

whirling storm
brings destruction
leaves renewal
by what remains

the Two Flames

Thunder crashing
lightning strikes
and so a new flame has been born

flickering from its arborean mother
with the passion of its father
living to consume
or consuming just to live

Found by a tribesman
now become a protected flame
harnessed to aid his fellows

behind remains its sibling
another would be sacred flame
left untended it enlarges
untill woodland is consumed


were you always so?

did you always knaw and tear
have you always had such hair!
and muzzle filled with long sharp teeth?

so you are now called
was that always your appellation?

slavering jaws and twitching claws
find your repose for a short while
rest relax
and regain yourself

you are not!
and needn't ever seem again
come with me
and remember who you are.


Do I judge myself too hashly?
who are you to say?
but then, who am I?

Who am I
to call myself holy saint or sinner foul
who am I
to think I have such measures down?

how can I judge
my impact on the world?
be small or great
how would I awake to know?