Terrible Poetry

Racecar (this piece has nothing to do with racecars except in one ephemeral sense)

Alone, standing before falling fragments, watching, while the all-Father falls down. Words: just three escape. "They fail you". It is petty, but arrogance excuses everyone. Still, you refuse to leave. They gather.

"Can you mark the hit? Didn't you see this?"

Regret. Will you push the feeling away? Twists partner your chest. The shaking starts. "He didn't - you know he didn't suffer."

Collectively, they step backwards. "It got you." Now threats. "Try? You don't stand a chance! To try you..." Two menacing eyes. His. Of pupils, the most intimidating one. Of course, first attention otherwise, there lay not. Could you find the blind eye? To magic using individuals, Easy. Solution, prevention. Scrying a catastrophe.

Magic using people, Elemental being infused into shape. Then mana, raw, take and reach beyond the confining borders, leaking, past breaking point, aura - your concentration grasps one edge. The dark shapes surround you. Human, only they’re not. Will you? But see, shall we then reach in? Weapons, their bodies.

Their power companions your all-knowing. And you should. “I agree.” You do. “But-” You save magic. Your will, acid, your voice, aside - sense makes theater, theater, this is insane! “-you are ravens!”

Shrieks. “You find will-ravens. The true servants, thought - I think - and stop! I remember memory. That which serves Woden.” “You, of all children, murdered the all-father! Our reason to live!”

“Did I? I did live to reason.”

“Our father! All the murdered children! All of you!”

Woden serves. “Which? That memory. Remember?”

“I-”

“Stop and think. I thought servants true.”

“The ravens will find you.”

Shrieks. “Ravens? Are you insane? Is this theater? Theater makes sense.” Aside. “Voice your acid - will your magic save you? But do you agree I should - you, and knowing all your companions -”

“Power their bodies, their weapons in reach; then we shall see. But you will not.” They’re only human. You surround shapes, dark. The Edge, one grasps. Concentration. Your aura point breaking past leaking borders confining the beyond. Reach and take raw mana. Then shape into being-infused elemental: People using magic.

Catastrophe! A scrying-prevention solution? Easy: Individuals using magic to eye-blind the find. You could not lay there otherwise.

"Attention! First course. Of one!" Intimidating most. The pupils of his eyes, menacing. "Two!"

You try to chance a stand. "Don't you try threats now. You got it backwards."

Step. "They collectively suffer. Didn't he know? You didn't." He starts shaking the chest. Your partner twists away, feeling the push. "You will regret this. See?"

You didn't hit the mark, you can gather. They leave, to refuse you still. Everyone excuses arrogance, but petty? Is it?

You fail. They escape. Three just words: "Down falls Father." All the while watching fragments falling, before standing alone.