A collection of poems taken from the minds of the citizens of Equestria.
Writing in Equestria is not always first nature --- maybe because hooves cannot easily hold a pencil, let alone write words coherently. This does not mean, however, that they do not create art, and dream poetry.
This is a written collection taken from the minds of ponies, revealing their deepest thoughts, their darkest desires, and all the things one cannot always reveal in prose alone.
The Tempest For she is born of the winds Sky around her twisting in a cacophony of whispered things Shall she be moral? Shall she be nice? All depends how the world treats her, and her inner spark
And so with Tempest Moon Who awakens in the dead of the cold night Blanched of color and hope and dreams For in the seasons of the dark, sometimes we are weak
The Tempest Storm prevails For the most part, anyways She brings new ideas, little thoughts thought before but new to her Until she falls again, unreal
Is she Tempest Storm or Moon? Colorless or full of life With a husband, as a wife Or wishing she'd always been alone and never cursed him with her presence
I trot home beneath the lamplights Broken with determination beyond me Because those of us gifted as a hope for this world Very rarely want to live; because only those that suffer can dream
Under the soft moon, upon the new-fallen snow She felt the colors pulled from her like a cover Unblanketing her inner fears but known to lovers For all the spiteful world to see her cringe
Though keratin protected her from nipping This winter's cold still dove and danced her branches Each a mortal twig placing a foot in nature's gift A crunch a-kin to breaking bones and limbs
Each thought varied but all the same painful scene And the dark, deep sky was lit by the little city Keeping away the thousand-starborn tapestry As the tiny moon began to raise her head
And in this quiet did the mare seem changed Her forcèd frown no longer joy betrayed She was alone, under the moon, a broken dove Blue hair gone silver, and coat dark smoke
Still the eyes regarded the moon as a beauty The only thing in the chilling silence of cold To try and keep her from giving in To darkest desires born of ages old
Upon her flank, a moon shined, gibbous and unwhole And eyes reflected pains only the night could know She ran from the silence to the comfort of her lover For loneliness is desperate, and alone...
I look down upon the world from my perch This place that was once a prison And now Again My own And see my beautiful children I feel so alone
Eternally I move my dearest moon to light their night And fend off deadly nightmares Oh how I wish They knew my plight
For one as I am is plagued by the Fates themselves Burdened to rest during the day And stay awake As all my little ponies rest And dream And break a little in their sleep, at times
But the day tires me as the night tires all And I find myself weary I cannot stand I fall And only peruse sparse daydreams in my slumber
So difficult it is to truly capture their nightmares Lock up the terrors and save my children I watch over them At night But am burdened to never reach them
Oh Fates, why did you curse me the likes of this? I am born to tread upon gossamer dreams But you wake me And hold me Until the night Is through
"Sleep, but no dream" A ponet once said A curse I wish It were another way
I can walk the dreams of all my children I can chase off demons in their sleep But I can rare ever rest beside them Because the night Is my day And I am so tired of mixed blessings I could cry
