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Humpty Dumpty

There was once an egg- a fairly large one, for an egg that is. He was short and stout and wore a pair of overalls cut off at the knees. His name was Humpty Dumpty. It was a fitting name, for he wasn’t too bright and he was rather round, for an egg that is.

 He lived in a time when kings and queens ruled the land and everything was made from stone and brick. As you can guess, this wasn’t the safest place for an egg the live. But Humpty never thought of the dangers, living his life in peaceful bliss, for he was just an egg.

 One day, with the sun shinning in the sky, Humpty Dumpty was sitting on a wall. Not being very intelligent that day,for he was just an egg, he was swaying his legs back and forth. He swung his legs to high and toppled over backwards and had a great fall.

 When he landed his shell shattered, splattering his insides all over the sidewalk. He cried in pain, screaming for all the kings horses and all the kings men to, please, put him together again. When they arrived- trying to no avail, couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty together again.

He died soon after and the whole city mourned his passing because he was a lovable egg. At his wake, the people followed through with his last wish. They scrabbled him up and had a great feast. They would all remember him with fond memories.

Originally posted on WCHannis's Blog:

On the skeleton of our need,

why the horror of the leaving?

The folding up the white narcissus,

darker blue, the moon is white, the night an even hue.

Theses sounds of bones cracking back,

the moans out of the night, crying, bitten.

I wonder what shapes they’ll force,

what tentacles they’ll grow?

Pride swallowed,

in the rich galled turnings of my throat.

Possess them in child magic,

through all their dreary spread.

While he himself,

edged into the terrible acute hatred.

He came to death,

with his mind drowning.

The blood screaming,

in the empty reservoir of bones.

Can they eat off his skeleton of pain,

and die in the Ether Peripheries?

Now petal after petal,

turns brown.

Moves away in careless death,

walking on long knives.

View original

On the skeleton of our need,

why the horror of the leaving?

The folding up the white narcissus,

darker blue, the moon is white, the night an even hue.

Theses sounds of bones cracking back,

the moans out of the night, crying, bitten.

I wonder what shapes they’ll force,

what tentacles they’ll grow?

Pride swallowed,

in the rich galled turnings of my throat.

Possess them in child magic,

through all their dreary spread.

While he himself,

edged into the terrible acute hatred.

He came to death,

with his mind drowning.

The blood screaming,

in the empty reservoir of bones.

Can they eat off his skeleton of pain,

and die in the Ether Peripheries?

Now petal after petal,

turns brown.

Moves away in careless death,

walking on long knives.

The Sword Cuts Deep

A Dark Tale of Fantasy

Prologue

     He arranged the eight plates of steel vertically on the floor of the cave, each one was equal to the size of his out stretched hand. He set down the guard of a sword and arranged it perpendicular to the metal, runes were etched across its surface in delicate spirals of calligraphy. Subsequently, he positioned a hilt that was crafted from the smooth bone of a human thigh. The pommel, he placed on the last piece of metal closest to him. It was a hard granite river rock, ground smooth and round by countless eons of rushing water relentlessly flowing over it. It was distinctly different to everything else in his sight, it seemed like a black hole. Night vision that was inherent in all the underground races, enabled him to see the stellate shades of reds blues and greens that glimmered in symmetrical patterns. The imperceptible incandescence took on the craggy shapes of the rough rock and he revelled in the total absence of visible light. The unforged sword shone a brilliant cold azure.

     The darkness was thick; as if the mountains that were above him compressed the inky blackness and he perceived it like an oppressive second skin. It felt like a thick unseen blanket covered him completely and he embraced it. The subterranean cavern was hot and humid from the natural effulgent heat of the stones so deep underground. Crimson radiated all around. The tight, confining space came to a peak over head, and a large crack continued upward in the ancient stone that stood out in black contrast to the chromatic rock. Coal ran in parallel horizontal seams along the wall. The coal was one of the main reasons why he chose this place, it was the catalyst to opening the portal.

     Grabbing a container that was filled with the blood a baby which was mixed with silver; he began to coat the rock walls with the mixture. It steamed on the minerals and soaked in the coal, leaving the silver imbedded within the stone. Moving to stand over the pommel on the sword, he pulled back his long hair and brushed it behind his pointed ears, preparing himself. He had nothing to fear physically, the creature he was about to release could not harm his body. The Shachath dwelt within a dimension of stone, therefore once it left it’s own realm the Shachath could only inhabit inorganic material. They were loathsome creatures, seeking nothing more than to spread malice by twisting the thoughts of others to do atrocious things. The fiend’s desired escape from their molten world, so he would use that and coerce it into doing what he wanted. He would offer it freedom from its domain by inhabiting the sword. In the process of forging the blade- demon and metal would become one, trapping the creature. But the maliciousness of the Shachath’s mind would try to entangle his thoughts and bend him to it’s will. He, however, learnt to control his thoughts centuries ago. All of his kind trained since childhood to discipline their psyche and no other race, in any dimension, could dominate them. He smiled, anticipating the hopelessness and suffering they would cause together.

     He spoke no word, just stood and felt with his mind. Feeling the silky smoothness of the blood and coal, he mentally pushed his mind through. He felt the pull of gravity and he went with it, until that pull became gentle. Knowing he was on the other side, he grabbed onto the particles that freely travelled between his world and the other. With a swift push he pulled his conscious back to himself. Holding onto the gravity with his mind, he pulled back the fabric that separated the worlds upon itself and a passageway began to form within the stone. A bright, orange light flooded through and he had to shield his eyes against the brightness.

     He did not have to wait for long. Tendrils of black smoke began to emerge through the portal and he straightened his back- took a deep breath and wall his mind against any intrusion. The smoke began to coalesce into a shape- it was a large creature, its head reaching the roof. First the feet and legs formed, they were cloven like a goat’s and grew into grotesque misshapen human thighs. The torso was humanoid but gaunt and twisted. It’s muscles were sinewy with the skin stretched tight. The hands came to misshapen claws. It had a bone extrusion on its back which made his malformed fleshless head droop forward. It stood tall and moved its emaciated body in a serpentine way. Thick smoke flowed out through its jagged teeth. Even though the Shachath was ethereal, it appeared corporeal. It’s eyes were bright green lights within the eye sockets and stared directly at its summoner. The gruesome creature instantly tried to penetrate his mind.

     “What do you want with me, Dark Elf?” it’s raspy voice seemed to emanate from the rock.

The Goblin in my head: A Short Poem of Insanity

Now I lay me down to sleep and I pray to have sweet dreams.

But there’s a Goblin sitting on my chest and he wants me to have nightmares.

Gross and disgusting, he just sits and smiles his black tooth grin.

In my mind I hear him say, “You will die!”

With visions of blood and gore, he plays over and over in my head.

It’s driving me insane.

Is he real or some figment of my imagination?

Is it me or is it him, that bring these thoughts to my conscience?

Will I live or will I die? Or will I just prolong the agony?

The Goblin sitting on my chest embraces me.

And as I fall asleep I realize, ‘The Goblin is me!’

Dark Tales of Fantasy

A natural progression of the over all story.

**********

Dark Tales of Fantasy

Evil things happen to good people

And there never is a happy ending!

An Anthology of magic and mayhem.

Set in a world of Dark Sorcery, where sacrificed life brings forth the vilest of magic.

And Creatures of Chaos, bent on destruction, subvert the morals of good.

In the end, Evil Things will happen to Good People.

****

Nightmares Encased in Stone

Meshan Algoric had his life torn from him by fire and malevolence.

The pain consumed him.

Every night he dreams of his family.

And in the end he will have his “Nightmares Encased in Stone “.

Get it now for free- http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/57622

To Rule by Right

Tasmorea had lost two kings, one after another.

Now after fifteen years, the Heir Apparent was about to come of age.

And the young prince wanted the throne.

His uncle Oril, just wanted the best for everybody.

But Oril will soon be faced with a decision.

It was his, “To Rule by Right,” so Oril’s nephew claimed.

Get it for free now- http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/57219

The Sword Cuts Deep

Niall Emayn is a good and kind man, living life with his family.

He is also one of the best Metal smiths around.

Things change when he is hire by a mysterious man to make a sword.

As soon as the forging commences, Niall becomes addicted to its creation.

And his neighbours begin to die.

He will soon learn how “The Sword Cuts Deep”.

Coming Soon

The Fallen City

Medhebah was a city made from gold.

Rich and prosperous, it controlled the trade of many nations.

But it held a deep dark secret, which led to its ruin.

And they became, “The Fallen City”.

Coming Soon

See excerpt, “Wanting to see the End of Time” on this blog.

More “Dark Tales of Fantasy” to come from the imagination of Wayne C. Hannis



Excerpt from ‘The City that Fell: A Dark Tale of Fantasy’

Wanting to see the end of Time

In the city that climbed so high,

Yet fell so low,

Wanting to see the end of time.

Greed will get you at the end,

And lead you into distruction.

In the city that climbed so high,

Yet fell so low,

Wanting to see the end of time.

They died by fire,

Their spirits destined to relive their doom.

In the city that climbed so high,

Yet, fell so low,

Wanting to see the end of time.

Lustrous on a mountain top,

But now reduced to rubble , rotting in the ground.

In the city that climbed so high,

Yet, fell so low,

wanting to see the end of time.

It once sparkled in gold but it all turned to lead,

As their dreams were fulfilled.

In the city that climbed so high,

Yet, fell so low,

Wanting to see the end of time.

Full of avarice, they wanted it all,

It was never enough.

In the city that climbed so high,

Yet, fell so low,

Wanting to see the end of time.

The low starved and the high feasted,

And war was the final outcome.

In the city that climbed so high,

Yet, fell so low,

Wanting to see the end of time.

Blood boiled in the burning streets,

As the walls began crumble, their defences were a trap.

In the city that climbed so high,

Yet, fell so low,

Wanting to see the end of time.

A covetous love given to another, brought forth strong magic,

And shook it to its foundations.

In the city that climbed so high,

Yet, fell so low,

Wanting to see the end of time.

Their final tragedy will echo through the dimensions,

And their doom till the end of time.

    -Wayne C. Hannis

He is our God!

He is God in heaven above and on the earth below.

God of all the kingdoms of the earth.

God of Abraham, Isaac. and Jacob.

He is God of all living and God of all the spirits of all flesh.

God of glory and God of mercy and peace.

He is the Living and True God, who along is wise; the Faithful One.

The Everlasting Great and Awesome God.

He is Jesus, our Great God and Savior.

He is the image of the invisible God,

And the One who built all things.

He forms the mountains and creates the wind.

He calls for the waters of the sea.

He makes the morning darkness,

And the day dark as night.

He also turns the shadow of death into dawn,

And is the only hope in the day of gloom: a refuge from the storm.

He is the True Bread from heaven, the Bread of Life;

And the Breath of the Almighty.

He is the Fountain of Living Water;

And the True and Everlasting Light of Life.

He is Jesus, the Great and Everlasting King over all the earth; And King of Heaven.

He is abounding in goodness and truth;

Acquainted with grief.

He searches the mind and heart, revealing His secrets;

And declares to man what His thoughts are.

He is the Commander of Yahweh’s army,

The One who comes in the Name of Yahweh, The Desire of all Nations.

The One who is and who was and who is to come,

He was dead and came to life and who lives. The Heir of all things.

He is Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith;

The Author of Eternal Salvation. He is the Resurrection and the Life.

The Savior of the World, The Way, The Truth and the Life.

Our Redeemer from Everlasting.

He loves us and washed us from our sin.

The Lamb without blemish and without spot.

The Lamb of God, who was slain.

He is our righteousness and sanctification and redemption.

He is Jesus, Son of David; The Lion of the tribe of Judah.

And He stands ready to judge the living and the dead.

Wayne C. Hannis

In the Now

In times gone past and in times to come;
I sit here in the now, watching and waiting,
waiting and watching.
For the past to envelop into the future.

The present tells the story of things to come.
In the now you may see, if you look real close,
The future may reveal itself to you.

Reality is different for each individual,
But for all it remains a constant.

Only in the memory of my minds eye does the past exist,
And the future only a dream.

-Wayne C. Hannis

That Sea of Oblivion

I forgot my friends birthday the other day.

I hurt when I remembered, because I don’t want his memory to fade.

I looked at my father’s picture today.

It was so long ago since he past away, that I hardly remember his character.

As time moves on, death will come to all.

Countless people that once lived, are now cast adrift in that Sea of Oblivion.

They were remembered for awhile.

Only kings and world movers are remember forever.

But only their names , contained within a book.

All the lives ever lived, now forgotten within that Sea of Oblivion.

You and I too, shall be cast adrift in that Sea of Oblivion, to be remembered for awhile.

And just like my friend and my father, who’s memories I try so hard not to forget,

the memory of me shall fade and be forgotten.

As I am cast adrift in that Sea of Oblivion.

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