Poetry of Tyria, Vol. XXVI
"From the Wall"
Wall patrol, dull days
Practicing haiku instead
Kalidris chatters
Quetzal refugees
Charr on the move, dragon-bound
Could have used a wall
Wafting sea breeze stirs
Quaggan pod swims nearby
Hidden krait drops, dead
Chill lingers past dawn
Thin ice forms, fires are ablaze
An eerie quiet
—By Soma Whispersong
"Deldrimor Digs"
Spent years in a shelter with skritts[sic]
Surrounded by baubles, not wits
Thought that was my end
Wish Ogden could mend
The rest of my bloomin' stone bits
They call me Stonehealer, it's true
But not in a way that helps you
While you might attest
By the Great Dwarf, I'm blessed
For now, you'll have to make do
It's a wonder the two of you thrive
While most of us don't survive
Look, I'm a damn ghost
The Consul Tomb's host
At least you're still bloody alive
—Orated by Rhoban Orestriker, Ogden Stonehealer, and Frodak Steelstar
—Transcribed by Kurt Bengtsson
"This Has a Name"
The moot is loud, but you are near
Hold my hand, and lend an ear
I love you, Beg, your arms, so strong
Tattoos you show, they run along
Your neck, your chest, and belly, too
Your soft keen eyes, a chestnut hue
The other norn, they can't compare
To my beau Beg, my love, my bear
Of a man, whose legend still grows
By day, by night, 'til felled by foes
Be it by dragon, dredge, or beast
'Til then we'll tussle, hustle, and feast
For when I fret, this has a name
I know it well, 'tis love to blame
—By Kurt Bengtsson
