Poetry selections

by kaitou42

First published 1st of April, 2013

A collection of MLP themed poems, put up as I write them

I may not be much of a writer, but I put these things together when inspiration strikes. And after pondering it some, I realized that I'm just going to lose them all if I don't post them somewhere.

So I'll be adding them here as I come up with them. They'll mostly rhyme, but not always of course. I've marked them slice of life, but they'll really vary. Not that I expect anyone to read them, they'll mostly be here just so that I can keep track of them.

Scootaloo in the Night

This poem was originally written in Russian by GreyPon, and the original can be read here. I ended up writing a translation because I enjoyed the original work.

There are secrets that hide in the dark,
And not always do they wish you well.
On my tale let us embark,
How I chanced my doom to repel.

In that moonless hour of night,
The winds howled and beat at the glass.
And it seemed any moment they might,
Into my cozy house to pass.

Withdrawn into music was I,
Didn't hear it's call right away.
By the window a shadow draws,
As it quietly knocked for parley.

From the ground are six stories fixed,
And my guest seemed to be Scootaloo.
As I hurried over transfixed,
In excitement my pulse only grew.

I was very amazed at this sight,
Making certain it truly was she.
Even in this most faint of light,
That this wasn't a dreams' escapee.

And I almost flipped open the latch,
To allow her entry inside.
But I froze a moment to catch.
In my mind a warning then cried!

I have heard of a tale told late,
Almost laughably fitting this core.
And recalling that most cruel fate,
Quickly down the curtains I bore.

With a nighttime window unlocked…
It was lucky I guessed to deny,
As it wasn't a pony that knocked.
For you see, Scootaloo cannot fly.

Author's Notes:

So yes, a bit different then most of what I'll be putting here, this is actually a translation. I enjoyed the concept and execution of it so much that I really had to share it with others.

Trapped on the Moon

Just a short bit with Luna.

On desolate moon is our prison of ages
The passage of time leaves no marks in the dust
We stay locked inside but our spirit still rages
Yet we shall have vengeance for this treatment unjust

And what was my sin, for which sister most kind
Has left us here trapped in our namesakes' cage?
To stare from the cold at all we left behind
As we stay unchanged and look on from offstage?

Just sharing my gift of the beautiful night
Of stars as the jewels and flowing patterns
Of mysteries, secrets, a poets delight
My moon softly shining with glow of lanterns...

And this they all shun, ignoring the beauty
In ignorance, fear, my work was left bare
For centuries on we stayed true to the duty
But as years passed so too grew our despair

In anger we struck, not for pride, but in pain
For what we deserve what is our just right
In this, as in all, sisters Sun was our bane
With Elements donned, she has stolen our night

This cage is well built, but our light is eternal,
We'll weather it through, and escape this abyss...
Our strength has not waned, we'll defeat Sun infernal!
And to see her once more... How my sister I miss.

Foreboding (Luna)

Like most of my writing, this was inspired by a particular image. So here's the art, and my answer to it in rhyme.

artwork by grayma1k on dA

I see this image, and I wonder,
It seems before the darkness came.
That tore the sisters two, asunder,
When Luna, Nightmare Moon became.

She sits in dark, upon the clouds,
Through night, alone, unseen, unheard.
Devoid of Suns' adoring crowds,
Within her heart, the darkness stirred.

A lonely task to watch the shadows,
Creating wonders none will see.
No one to frolic - empty meadows,
It's quiet land, from sea to sea.

She grows resentful of her sister,
Who each day sees her loving fans.
She starts to hear voice whisper,
It offers her seductive plans.

She fights temptation off, for now,
Continues watching until dawn.
But there's concern in her brow,
For deep within, she's feeling drawn.

Mirror of the Heart (Rarity)

Again, inspired by a particular work of art. There is something in the way this image captures the moment that led me to want to expand on it a bit.

Artwork by Jack-a-Lynn on dA

She looks upon the jeweled pool,
Within the colors, it appears.
A mirror so sharp its' cruel,
That plays upon her darkest fears.

In it she is her harshest critic,
Without tempering the flaws.
The mind coldly analytic,
If her friends' pain she was the cause.

Reflecting on her prior actions,
Each word, and less than kind thought.
When superficial interactions,
Kept her from doing what she ought.

She stands a time in reflection,
Her legs not willing to depart.
In mind, lost in introspection,
By this cold mirror of the heart.

Sun's Lament (Celestia)

Technically this was inspired by several images, of a similar sort. Celestia gazing up at the Moon and seeing Luna's silhouette.

She wasn't meant to rule the night,
The day alone was her domain.
As Moon she raises to its' height,
She sees the shadow, siblings' bane.

Those long-past days when they were two,
Both rulers of this gentle land.
Before her sisters sorrow grew,
The flame of ire darkness fanned.

They battled fiercely, and then,
In sadness, to protect the pair.
With might of elements to pen,
Into the Moon, imprisoned there.

Each night she sees that shadow kept, in silence greater than a shout.
For a millennia alone, one trapped within and one without.

Tale of Parasprites

Just something I put together, imagine a tale told by Zecora

Come sit and hear my tale of lore,
On parasprites in days of yore.
Before the sisters ruled the land,
And moved the heavens on command.

When farmers toiled day and night,
Their labors split by those with might.
In just a town like any other,
To no one it was a bother.

As happens often 'twas a filly,
Within some game of children silly.
Chanced on a creature, brought it back,
And soon the one was quite a pack.

Their numbers blotted out the skies,
Around all you'd hear were cries.
As they ate all that they could see,
And multiplied in morbid glee.

Eventually the answer found -
The sprites love most melodic sound.
Were cleared away, a bit too late,
The damage done was much to great.

The fields abandoned, left in dust,
As all the tools gave way to rust.
What was a town, now is not,
Just shells of buildings left to rot.

As ages passed, the forest grew,
And soon the land was clean anew.
The place was quiet - or so it seemed,
Yet in the caves some sprites still dreamed.

What were some lessons to be heeded,
Were now seen as things not needed.
Forgotten words of yesteryear,
Of dealing with this plague severe.

As time passes, things are lost,
Yet history will take its cost.
To those ignoring lessons past,
Your path is fraught with dangers vast.