When I joined Instagram over a year and a half ago I had no intention of writing poetry again. It was something I had done in my past but certainly not recently.
After 6 months in the poetry community I put my first self published poetry book out. Something I never imagined that I would do.
And then nearly a year later I self published my second poetry book. But during that time I had written a piece for a prompt. I was given a song lyric… “he’s coming back from somewhere he never should’ve been..” it’s from The Thunder Rolls by Garth Brooks. A song I was actual fond of and had grown up with.
I wrote two pieces for the prompt. And one… had something to it… it had a story. I was inspired to write a part two… giving the characters more interaction and history, then a part three, and that eventually went on to be six parts. People were hooked and so was I. And that is where The Fractured Veil was born.
Below you’ll see the original poem to begin the journey into Emric and Arryn’s story.
“Curtains of snow blankets the hills as it falls effortlessly from the frozen sky above, Not a whisper would be uttered as the shadow people slipped from their hell, The trees protested softly echoing their disdain for the touch of darkness that fell, Without warning there was one that could quiet the moans of the suffering, emerging, He returned from somewhere he never should’ve been, but called to the cause, He’d never turn down a chance to right his own sins, marked by the darkness only the brave would ever mention, for fear of merely speaking it into existence, Battle scars and wounds delivered from this life or the last, they lie deeply embedded into the soul he truly for forever resented, Called upon by the angels that fell, to ferry the very beings he battled once beside satan in hell, As they make their way across the veil, he will forever be carrying the weight a reaper knows too well, charged with the duty to keep order among the light, he knows this is everlasting souls plight, Collecting of the artifacts cast out by the witches of old times, he would not be troubled by their sinister crimes, their evil could not penetrate the armor given by Mephostopheles himself, there is no telling of the demons he’s seen but he is of their kind if you can read his tell, but who could, a seer to see him for the man beneath it all, she was always the one to help behind the scenes to deliver a light for him to unfreeze, he was always coming back from somewhere he never should have been, understanding his heart and soul was tarnished with a curse beyond our comprehension of old, he hunted them down wherever they may roam, often traveling between the two worlds, a sinister hunter, a collector, his very own bringer of a doomsday spell, to her, hell existed on earth and she’d hold him close for all she was worth, as his feet crunches the snow of this land, he remembers how it felt to feel the brush of her hand, her warmth unlike that of anyone else he had known, she saw him for more, what it was, was unknown, he knew he’d never leave this earth and for her sake he hoped she’d stay with him to remain his hearth.”
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