• Member Since 12th Feb, 2015
  • offline last seen 9 hours ago

Petrichord


Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?

More Blog Posts105

  • 6 weeks
    Commissions are closed

    I was in a strange mood yesterday, forgive me for that.

    Still don't know what I really want to do with my writing anymore. Still struggling.

    Sorry about this, y'all.

    2 comments · 46 views
  • 6 weeks
    Open for Commissions!

    Need something to kick my butt into gear, and I figure this is the best way to hold myself accountable.

    Read More

    5 comments · 47 views
  • 7 weeks
    A Brief Break from Brief Histories

    Went to start touching up my Brief History of West-Equestria before posting it.

    Read More

    3 comments · 44 views
  • 7 weeks
    A Brief History of Ost-Equestria

    Depending on how you define it, the history of Ost-Equestria is either very short - a mere twenty-four years - or quite long indeed, a saga spanning back since the dawn of ponykind. The races of Ost-Equestria tend to take the latter interpretation; in other countries on Equus, the former interpretation is generally considered the correct one. But, whatever the case may be, the causes leading up

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    0 comments · 42 views
  • 7 weeks
    A Brief History of Stalliongrad and the Severnyy Soyuz

    Stalliongrad, a north-eastern territory of Equestria that formerly belonged to an independent pony kingdom of Severnaya, was annexed by Equestria in 917 ALB (After Lunar Banishment, a traditional starting point of reference on Equestria’s calendar.) That said, Severnaya never integrated into Equestria as well as Princess Celestia would have liked: the country had its own culture and

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    1 comments · 31 views
Feb
16th
2020

Not the best poem in a contest by a long shot · 3:56am Feb 16th, 2020

F Major’s not a key I’d use
To sing a song of bliss;
Back in the day, if I’d done that
My notes would seem amiss.

Back in the day, I’d never go
And sit out on the roof,
Atop the school and play guitar;
I’d be far too aloof.

I’d hold in everything I felt
My sermons and confessions;
They’d never hurt me in my head,
And there’d be no concessions.

And now my thoughts and notes are gone
To wander where they may;
I’ve nothing else I’d rather do
Then freely waste the day.

It’s here or inside of my cage,
A perfect sanctuary;
My thoughts and I could linger there
And would - outside, it’s scary.

The eyes of passing strangers judge,
Their words full of convictions;
And rightly so - my inner self
Deserved their maledictions.

But that was then, and this is now;
I’ll sit and pluck my notes,
And let my fears evaporate
Until they’re naught but motes.

The capsule bottle at my side
Makes my sermons blurry;
My confessions, I rarely think
Of them and rarely worry.

The sun is bright, the sky is clear,
My memories, forgotten;
I didn’t need them anyway.
Those memories were rotten.

My bandaged hooves still play these notes,
F major’s grown on me;
I’d rather stick to skies and strings
Plucking a melody.

Report Petrichord · 106 views · #poem
Comments ( 1 )

Not the best perhaps, but far from the worst. I enjoyed it!

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