My New Works

[Luftwaffles]

Dude, "As The Crow Flies" is just beautiful. Such a powerful short poem.

I applaud you, and I'm looking forward to see more.

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Thank you Sierra! Also, Welcome to the forum! As for rushing my work, I already have the Intro for From Here I Go: The Story of a Snail done, and I am editing Chp. 2 right now. Ill go ahead and post the Intro. Hope you all enjoy!


Prologue/Introduction

Adventure: This Instinct, absorbed, held, and used through every living creature that has ever touched this Earth or smelled its air, comes from the nature and will of us. It leads to discoveries, that takes the knowledge bestowed upon us, and makes it a home for these new thoughts and ideas that when we were created, we as a whole would have never dreamed about. Exploration is its son, in which this element makes us test our boundaries, create wonderful, skillful concepts composed of our very own gifts, and gives us a home, just like we gave it. Together, we and this thing we call, 'Adventure' can create something, beyond belief, imagination, and the realm of possibility. Lo, with it we have compromised much and completed more, but out there, a place which hold the label of 'open', and 'free', could become more than a home, or a place of comfort, but a land, in which we live our lives with one another, in the slight balance of harmony. Possible it could be, if only my son, we take on this sense of adventure and use it at our will. For with it, the land given to us could be our own. A place where we discover, and explore, a place where we think, create and do. Harness it if you will, for you will meet me alongside you on your journey to reach this place that may not even exist. But when we reach it, it's up to you to decide if we have made it.

[Skyblade]

That's amazing. I like to a lot; I really do

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Why Thank you Lady Blade! I will take that complement sincerely!

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Ok, so I have finally gotten around to finishing Chp. 2 of BoE, so here it is. Hope those who read it will enjoy it!

Also, you can also read all of the chapters and some of the other stuff I have written on Wattpad. The link to my Account is below. There are also some really good Redwall Fan Fics there to. I recommend Goodbye Gonff, very powerful and touching.
http://www.wattpad.com/user/mscott1106

Farewell and Excel!

-PoM

Chapter 2



   Smells of smoke and flame diffused around the house. The heat of fire not only danced on the walls making them seem as if they were alive, but touched them ever so slightly, creating bright orange and red images, flailing and dancing with a rhythm only those who were made alongside it could match. Together they spread, teaching the new creations the ways of their kind. When enough of these simple beings gathered, the aroma, which was brought from the depths of the surface on which they glistened, soared among its masters, climbing and rising, until finally, it reached a passage for escape. Traveled up and around freely it did in the rich, black night sky, never again seeing its masters, but only for a brief moment. For it looked like sun on a clear morning day, prominent and striking, but only, it thus was at night, in the middle of the woods, burning, and ripping the foundations of a family and home, apart.
        Sounds of yelling, screaming, and the fire's roar where acknowledged by the young fox's ears. As he rose from his slumber, a wad of smoke and ash was taken into his lungs. Immediately, Foxtamas let a whooping cough, that cleared away some of the smoke and let him see what had become of his home. The place of which he had rested since the night he had been born into this world was fading to the fire and heat of the flames. All of the smooth, detailed designs on the walls which had taken years of work to carve, engulfed by its only enemy. Around him, he could feel the press of the heat, nipping at him, hurting him, burning him. All of this, of course, was a lot for the small creature to take in. While in awe, the bunked bed on which he sat, gave way to the predator, and collapsed, bringing young Foxtamas to the ground. Embers flew up in the air as the wood toppled down into the flames. Through the rubble however, the fox climbed out, full of scars, bruises, and burns, his young blood spilling out of his wounds, creating a stain on his clothes and fur. The pain was unlike any other he had sustained before. It sunk in deep, making every movement feel like a stab to the chest, or a mass of weight being thrown on top if his developing body. He lay there, not being able to move far from anywhere. Little to no pure air was left in the burning tree. It was just filled with thick, black smoke. All hope seemed lost. Everywhere he looked, fire roared, the danger of it coming to attack and finally kill the poor, innocent soul. Walls of fire danced around him, searing his fur little by little. Even the ground below him was growing hot, and would soon collapse down as well. This was his fate, to be burned to death or suffocated in his own home.
"Foxtamas! Baby where are ya! Get over 'ere fast! We gotta go!''
These calls reached the dying fox. Was that Omaya? Where was she? More calls where heard, but no response came to them. Until a hoarse voice spoke out,
"Ma! I'm-*cough* up here! He-*cough*-lp!"
With one of his last breaths he delivered those words. Too quiet were they, and nobody could hear them. Everything started to fade. Loud crashes and small flashing embers where all the young creature could hear and see. No air was left. As he gave his final breath, something happened. A high pitch scream came from outside, through the open window. Following it where sounds of metal and rage. More screams were heard, followed by yells from a male. All of this Foxtamas heard. His family was in danger! He did not know by who or what, but something. Never would he let them down, for they gave him so much when they had so little. Even if he were to die tonight, he would die by them. With one great heave of effort and force, the valiant fox rose from the floor, and stood among the flames. Not too far from him was the window, left wide open. Now was his chance. Never again would he be able to do this, of he lived or died. Gasping for one final breath, he ran, and jumped out the window, fire catching on to his fir and hide, ripping away at his ragged tunic which already had too many holes, and making its way to his skin. Relieved he was as all those burns touched the soft, white snow. This too hurt, but not as much as fire's touch. The fox scrambled up, and breathed in some of the air not polluted by smoke. A few yards away, his mother and Foxlaris stood, hiding behind a patch of trees. Away he went, staggering to reach them.
"Foxtamas! Why, you're here!" cried out Omaya as even more tears ran down here fearful face. She took her son in by her, but that moment of reconnection was short lived. A mangled old voice, that sounded rageful and intoxicated shouted out, "Oi! The rest o' dem over there!"
Peering through the smoke to see who had yelled them, he saw a figure, who looked to be his father, fighting large black creatures with a curved blade. His concentration was taken from Omaya yelling at the two.
"Run boys! Hurry! Me and Pop will catch up with ya. Hurry!"
"Ma! No! I won't leave!" cried Foxtamas as he clung to his mother.
"Honey go! Now! Listen to me, we will be alright!"
Tears ran down Foxtamas's face as his older sibling pulled him away. Before he let go, his mother handed him a simple pocket hanker chief to wipe his face. Together, the two ran on their wobbly legs into the deep forest under the pressure of heavy smoke and cold winds. Taking one last look back, he saw his very own mother, the one who had raised him and taken care of him all of his life, run into the mass of smoke towards her faithful husband, leaving only her painful screams behind.
    The pair ran on, both fear stricken for their own lives and those of their parents. Foxtamas was still being pulled by his paw by Foxlaris. All of this emotion the young fox had been feeling caused him to stumble and fall more often than usual, leading them to go at a slower pace. Even Foxlaris felt this. Being the more sickly of the two, Foxlaris needed more air for his small lungs. The smoke didn't help either, making him gasp more frequently. After running for a good five minutes, Foxlaris gave. With his little brother behind him, he fell down into the soft freezing ground. The poor fox was very short on breath, and his legs where numb from all of the running. Luckily, Foxtamas stopped before falling over. Tears filled his eyes as he looked down at his brother. He jumped down and made sure he was breathing. Faint as it was, he heard it. After this quick check, he tried dragging his unconscious body to a large ice cover birch. This took some time, but he managed to get it over. Foxtamas tried to wake him up, but nothing would work. This added even more worries to his already large bucket full of emotions. He sat his little body down next to his brothers. His clothes and fur were singed, most of his skin was either brutally bruned or frozen solid. The large tears he tried to hold back finally came pouring out. There was nothing more for him to do. He would have been better off burning in the house. While grieving over his now torn apart life, he heard heavy footstep marching towards the place where he sat. Was Ma and Pop finally here! His head peeked out from behind the tree. What he saw was not his parents. There stood a great black creature, its axe gleaming in the pale moonlight. The beady red eyes scanned the area in search of a new prey to pounce on and devour. A dark hood covered its large head, which was full of evil, pain, and malice.
"Where y' hoidin' foxies? Com out now, I only wunt to tulk t' ya!"
Terrified, Foxtamas kept his head down close to his brother. Now they were really doomed. As hard as it was, Foxtamas held back the warm tears burning inside of him. He looked down, being prepared for his head to be clean off in a moments time. Looking down, he saw a small gleam from Foxlaris's belt. Slowly and quietly, he slid the small pocket knife out of its holding. So many thoughts ran through his mind. The sounds of steps drawing nearer, the blade which he held in his hand, his brother unconscious, the burns and wound on his small body. No longer could he take it. He had enough endurance for one miracle tonight, and he could certainly have enough for a second. With a forward rush, Foxtamas jumped up and ran straight into the dark figure with the small knife in front of him. So much force was put into that one blow, that it knocked the large creature to the ground, slain by a young fox. Foxtamas tugged the blood (which was deep black in color) covered blade out of the figure's chest. The life-less red eyes seemed to stare at him, reminding him of the situation he was in. He held Foxtamas in his dead, cold stare, putting thoughts into the fox's head like poison from a snake's fangs. Foxtamas broke from this gaze, not knowing the trickery his soul was trying to play. He tucked away the knife in his pocket and went back to Foxlaris who seemed to be waking up.
"F-f-foxlaris! Get u-up!" he muttered in his fearful voice.
"Uh, where are we?"
"No time! H-hurry, we g-g-gotta go!"
Foxtamas hauled up his older brother, and put his arm under his shoulder, giving him stability.
"Come on!"
The arrogant young fox stood up and regained his composure, and followed his younger sibling through the ice covered forest.
   The pair walked slower this time, making careful of every step. Foxlaris was slowly remembering the night's events. Foxtamas however, was trying so hard to shake off the shock of killing someone. Both had their own thoughts, and neither one of them told the other of what they were thinking. Thump! Foxtamas tripped unexpectedly on an overgrown tree root. He looked up and saw a marvelous sight. Strangely enough, he had fallen in some sort of small clearing. Everywhere he looked, he saw small, luscious violet lotus's dotting the scene. They drew atop the large bushes and trees of the surrounding area. Even on the snow covered ground they shown like beautiful over grown weeds. Each petal shown in its own unique way. Everything about them was left the recipient of their beauty in awe. In the main center though, where large masses of stone bricks, bigger than both of the foxes. Along the tops of them where a bunch of odd symbols, that looked lie normal Evonian letters, but different. Tall pillars and arches still stood however, but only a few. The rest apparently had fallen or crumbles down with age. The whole place had a purple aura and feel to it. This place was not natural, but put here by some supernatural being, for its mysterious, yet embracing sense was far more than the normal mystique of Evon. Foxtamas got up off the ground and walked in. The shear, beauty of the place marveled the young creature. Upon walking into the middle however, he began to feel dizzy and drowsy. Foxlaris, who had walked in there as well, began to feel the same way. After a couple of second of this loopy feeling, both collapsed onto the fallen stones. Foxtamas barely kept his eyes open, but when he did, he saw the whole area spinning. All of the beautiful flowers became one large violet haze. It looked as if an artist had put two small dots of orange on his pallet of my different rich, radiant purples and mixed it all together, creating a wonderful effect. He soon closed back his eyes and saw a bright flash of a blue bird, its feathers long and great, showing a power of position. His wings which were as hard as steal and yet soft like a fresh baked loaf of parsley bread came and caught the two creatures while the world around them spun. When he felt safe, Foxtamas opened his eyes, and found himself in a small cot next to a fireplace which was heating up nicely. An odd creature loomed over him, it's long brown antlers creating a shadow on his face. A soft paw touched his cheek, and soft kind words were spoken into his ear.
"Come on now laddie, wake oup!''

[Skyblade]

YES! This is very well written, Gonff, especially for one of your age! I know I always say that, but only because the situation calls for the praise.

Seriously, the prologue is a great hook. I found myself liking the young fox based on your description. You effectively made him seem like such a lovely fellow who aims to make everyone's day - like you, actually. I can tell you put thought into this work. The plot is great and the world seems real. Your style, most noticeably at the beginning of Chapter 2, is advanced.

Truly looking forward to more, but feel free to do whatever you wish!

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Thank you trillions of time over! When I saw you posted here, I think I died a little. I will try to let you read Chp. 3 soon, for its almost done. Thank you once more Madam Blade!

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Sorry for the DP, but I just got some news.

My Poem, As The Crow Flies, just one a HUGE competition in Dallas Texas! Since I won, I get it published, and I think it may go to Either the The rest of the USA or the World competition, not really sure yet. Just wanted to let yall know!

- PoM

[The Mask]

That's incredible! It's a great poem and you totally deserve it!

[Skyblade]

Sorry for the DP, but I just got some news.

My Poem, As The Crow Flies, just one a HUGE competition in Dallas Texas! Since I won, I get it published, and I think it may go to Either the The rest of the USA or the World competition, not really sure yet. Just wanted to let yall know!

- PoM

Woah, just heard about your success! GREAT WORK!

Are you posting more stuff, mate??

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Thank you very much Mask! (Sorry for not responding)

Great thanks to you as well Sky! You can always make ones day.

Here is quick poem I wrote tonight, for my first day o school starts tomorrow. I have a had a bizarre Summer and this is just a way to remember it an say goodbye to it.

Oh, how did it go,
Your break from reading, writing, and stress.
Now you sit a top your bed,
Wishing to relive the days of rest.
The trips you went away to,
And the many friends you made,
All must sadly come to a close,
This last Summer day.
Do not look long dear reader,
For this is just the start,
Of a far greater adventure,
Than your three month part!
New knowledge you will gain,
Old friendships renewed,
Trips on which you celebrate,
Hark! This is great news!
So button up your shirt,
And pull up for shorts!
Tighten you belt,
A new year has yet to be explored!
Now go forth dear reader,
With no fear, but hope,
For what tomorrow brings,
Is a journey far better than ones known.

[Skyblade]

That's so optimistic and well-written

[CaptainRocktree]

@Gonff's most recent post: Thats a great poem! My school just started recently, Good bye summer...

@Gonff's other post: Man that is awesome! As The Crow Flies is an amazing poem!
Because its getting published does that mean people like me will be able to buy a copy?

[Gonff the Mousethief]

@Sky: Aw, thank you very much Sky 

@Cap'n: Thank you as well! I just sent you a PM regarding that 

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Okay, so the contest in which I won National's in, started, and I entered a piece into each category! I have them here if you want to read them. Hopefully they can win!

(Will add Diary Project soon)

For If the Light (Updated from Requests thread)

For If the Light

    War is not something one forgets, nor do they want to forget. In war character is built, for better or for worse. Death is the only smell. It reeks and fills the heart and mind of those who have the justice of good inside of them. Blood is the paint which walls and bodies bear. Screams are the equivalent of bird song to those who have the heart of a lion and the mind of a hawk. They do not fight for us, themselves, or any other. They fight to defeat evil, and let the good prevail. Good that will not go away, only fade. For a light with oil, no matter how much, will always burn.


    From the wall I saw it happen. Our leader, who had led our small army of two hundred against the side forces of Lord Velrgrip's, was held hostage by one of Velgrip's commanders, Rylit. All of our men were slain, except General Gilaphad and I. My body was sorely wounded, taking two arrow shots to my right leg and one to my left shoulder. Everything had gone black when I was hit, but now I was awake, and in excruciating pain with a great amount of blood lost. My mouth was sealed, for if I cried out, my fate would be sealed. While my pain unfolded, my attention was on my commander. How sorrowful and dead he looked. No life sprang from his eyes. No more joy was in his smile, or justice in his expression. All that was left was, well, nothing. He had no where to go, no more time left to live or anything left to live for. His decision to take on this army was a mistake, leading his men to an un-escapable doom. We were the meat at the butcher's hands. But now, driven down to his knees, with a sword pointed to his neck, the great captain and leader was just a simple hostage, only good for information.
"Tell us of the plans which the Royal House Navy possesses oh great 'Gilaphad'," sneered a loony voice. A dark, solitary mumble came from the broken man. "Rylit, I swore to nev-" "Oh yes, you swore this, and you swore that, I know, I know, but either you tell me, or I take your life!" Following his statement, the mindless general laughed, creating an echo in the small outer area of the fort's grounds.
"Take it then. My duty is my duty." "Fine with me! You are, well, already dead anyway! What would be your last words, oh mighty general?" Gilaphad looked up into his enemy's soulless, dark eyes. "The Light which stands for all good and right in this world will never go out. The Darkness which consumes you Rylit, is evil and cunning, tearing away at your soul. It will go out. Darkness is just the absence of Light; and when that Light shines, using the blood of these fallen men as oil, all of the Darkness will wither away. Just. Like. You."


    Hot blood sprayed on the crazed general as the thump of a body and sword falling to the ground sounded. His deranged eyes looked down at his victim. He pulled his sword out of the valiant man's neck and wiped the sticky substance off with his overcoat. "Ok men, head to Ebington! We will breach the walls, just like this dump." And with that, he walked out of the small fort's walls and down the gravel path, taking no heed to what his foe had uttered to him only moments before.


After years of conquest and plunder, both Lord Velgrip and General Rylit were defeated by the Royal House Navy, which had used the old battle plans and war logic written by the late General Gilaphad. Today a statue of him stands at the remains of the fort in which he died. A small plaque under it reads: Darkness is the absence of Light, and no matter how much oil, the Light will always burn.

[close]

The Wanderer

Notice: I wrote this poem based on my feelings. I never can really stay with friends or places very long, and sometimes I come to except that I don't necessarily need to. The "Wanderer" in the poem is a reflection of me. He starts out in pity of his calling, but in the end comes to terms with it and excepts it. He sees that everything has its place, and usually that means they are together, but he isn't, and that is okay. Its a truth that I need to see. The "Wanderer" is also based on the quote of Tolkien's ,"Not All those who Wander are Lost", one of my favorite quotes. Kinda an homage in that way as well.


The Wanderer

I am a wanderer, set upon the course of time,
My desolate path bends each and every way,
Alone from the start, alone to the end,
Passing by, leaving before a welcomed stay.

The grass dances in its own unison,
Feeling the beat and warmth of the wind's tune,
It turns a blind eye from its own joy and song,
But I am a wanderer, not knowing if happiness is soon.

The mountains form in their army line,
Regimented by their willingness as a pack,
Joined each by another, a system of militant range,
But I am a wanderer, knowing not of the love on my back.

The sun and moon wrestle, siblings 'til the very end,
Wanting it all too much day, or never enough night,
Their argument ends when the shadows travel East,
But I am a wanderer, with no family in sight.

The clouds, they sail, on the seas of endless blue,
Never reaching a destination, sails lifted high and flung to the breeze,
With granted hope, together they may sail t'wards port,
But I am a wanderer, with a journey that never will cease.

The night, it hushes, with the tingling of sounds,
Wishing these broad bodies a place to rest on earth's bed,
The stars connect, auras pertaining to perfect peace,
But I am a wanderer, with a trail still far ahead.

I will travel over fold over,
To places no one here can ever tell,
I wish you off safe, I wish you off right,
For I am the Wanderer, with the path of adventure that never will quell.

[close]

The Midst of War

The Midst of War

Past these five Aprils,
I've worn the winds of war,
Slaying my own brethren,
Fighting through the squall of blood.

I don't feel like a knight,
Or an honorable man,
I go deaf to the screams,
And suffocate in the smell of death.

What is it for?!
Hills dewed with red poison,
The feel of such treachery,
And utter hopelessness.

But I trudge on,
Living on just hallow bread,
Wounds reside upon my body,
The bandages have changed me.

I long for the end,
To feel Freedom's warm hands,
But for the stars and stripes on the forerunner's flag,
I charge into the battlefield fray.

[close]

I also have an essay I wrote, but that deals with science and religion, so PM me if you want to read that (Also it gets kind of boring)



Anyway, I hope those of you who read enjoy it! It means so much that you would see what I concocted, so thank you to the moon and back in advance!


- PoM