Tarajan: Angel in Disguise

[Corrusader]

Tarajan's journey continues with this rather long poem.

For those not familiar with Tarajan, here's his story. Tarajan is a tragic hero who got banished to the Corruption's realm, the underworld, the cruel land where evil people go. He got banished for a reason he does not agree with, and has been ever since trying to escape that land, to side with the light, to find redemption, to return, or at least, to escape.

Unfortunately, the ruler of the realm, the Nightmare King, wants Tarajan to stay. Tarajan sold his soul to the King at his weakest moment, and thus is forced to work for him. Tarajan has since then been describing himself as "masked by shadow," and he is not happy about that.

Angel in Disguise

One night I was my lamp refill,
In my tent blew a frozen chill,
Out the flaps I saw a hill,
In the winter standing still.

On the rocky peak it cruelly snows,
And harder and harder the northern wind blows,
The blizzard stops not nor does it slows,
Yet from the mountain defiance glows.

The Giant had my spirit snared,
Into my mind curiosity stared.
Anxiety in my cold heart flared,
Never did I thought I cared.

So I strode into the storm’s temper,
Approached the hill and played the tempter,
The night is dark, but my shadow is darker,
The doubter who questioned the believer.

Oh mountainous one, why do you coldness endure?
Why not in darkness darkness conjure?
Why do you stray from the path of the impure?
Why have you refused corruption’s lure?

Harsh are my words but the giant is silent
My voice grew loud, but his silence is ancient.
My rage echoed and my heartbeat grew violent,
A thousand sarcastic screams, all wasted talent.

And more and more from my questions I tire,
Stronger and stronger my anxiety grew dire.
Why do answers none for me inspire?
Then a lightning strike lit my mind on fire.

At the mountain foot, some yellow flowers grew,
Growing in the land where eternal winter blew.
In desperate times, the heaven’s light shone through,
At desperate places, the protector’s might stood true.

Yellow flowers grow where no life belong,
Warded against death by the will of a stone,
In the land of harm they sing a happy song,
Some of that warmth, the hill takes as its own.

Through the flowers my destiny I can see,
Tho far from heaven a paladin I can be.
With my necrotic horse, the innocent I can free.
Those who stumbled on Corruption’s decree.

I left the mountain and my spirit flies,
Tho I am the same, still in my demonic guise,
Under my cloak is truth covered by lies,
Pardon my mask; I’m an angel in disguise.

[Velata]

... May I...?

It's great to see Tarajan again, Shadow-mask'd or not.

It's always the rhyming that takes me in... such a rare thing nowdays... and executed finely, too...~sigh... We need more rhymers and minstrels in this world.

Speaking of minstrels telling stories, one thing I've realised is that throughout the series, Tarajan has been on a personal quest to find a niche for himself in the world that he existed in. There's almost no mention of what he does after he's found it. For an "Angel in Disguise", there's been almost no mention of what he had done while under the Shadow Mask. For a self-avowed hero who is "Masked by Shadow, bust side with light" we have seen him being saved by the memory of a friend, carve into himself to remember what he was, going back to his old land for a conversation (confrontataion?) with his former colleague, search for answer on top of a tall tree, and now, finding revelation in a small flower at the base of a frigid mountain.

Quite a journey, Tarajan.

But where do you go from here? Who would you save from the clutches of the Nightmare King? Where would your necrotic horse take you? How would you liberate those who has fallen on "corruption's decree"?

Perhaps I've been impatient. Perhaps I've been following the scattered story over-zealously. However, I am anxious to see the story progress. It is one thing to have the (anti-)hero come forth and tell of his inward journey to define himself. Perhaps, it is now time to see where he takes his new-found identity.

[Corrusader]

There's no mention for what Tarajan does after he found his "niche" because he himself did not know. At the end of the first poem he decided he'll be "masked by shadow but side with light." However, he himself did not know what actions he will take to realise those intentions. He did not find a way to "side with light" until the poem Angel in Disguise.

He tried to get back to the world above in "Shadowmasked," but he failed. He was on a journey than for self preservation, to shed his mask, to return to the light. That was not what he meant by "side with light."

In the Angel in Disguise, Tarajan decided he will help others who has fallen into Corruption's realm get back to where they belong. In his mind, Tarajan doesn't belong here; but he can't get back to where he was, so he will instead help others get back. He will guard and shield others from corruption like the mountain did for the flower. He realised he can "side with light" by doing that, and that's the relavation in Angel in Disguise.

[Advent Childhe]

Greetings:

I am late as usual.

I've not the time lately for anything artistic. Sciences has me firmly in its suffocating grasp.

I will post soon for your thing, Corrusader.

Yours,
Wayward,

PS: why not on the writers corner? (grin)

[Bryan]

i've no idea wat's goin on... but *shines his spiked mace to get ready for some head bonkin...* I love my mace and the violence it brings... :3 *hugs and kisses the mace* yes... we've been a good little mace haven't we? *twitch* time for ur reward by bonkin some pple on the head... hehehehehe....

[Advent Childhe]

Greetings:

It is getting late, but I feel the urge to post.

Comment: The forum is dying. I feel it in the air. There are few that remain. Where have they all gone? where is the mirthful banter? Gone.

Corrusader- "Angel in disguise" is a long narrative poem with an obvious attempt at a classic rhyming and form scheme (quatrains). The Narrative is nice. I can see the decision the main protagonist makes after taking inspiration from a mountain and some yellow flowers. It is a classic idea, to have a person that has fallen from grace to do all he/she can to redeem he/herself by saving others. In doing so, receives a type of salvation that was never meant to be his/hers.

The attempt at rhyming is laudable, but the execution could be improved. The poem sacrifices the use of grammar and oft sets the sentences in a passive voice so that the verb could be used as a part of the rhyme. Rhyming is good, but not to the point where the voice of the poem is passive (which works against the feelings of the strong emotions felt by the protagonist) or when the sentences are formed strangely. It is understood that with poetic licensing, grammar takes a bystander's place, but it is still required to make the sentences work. Examples of grammatic problems: " In to my mind curiosity stared". I do not know if the protagonist is staring into his mind curiously, or if Curiosity, personified, stared into his mind. "the Blizzard stops not nor does it slows." Passive voice, and... wrong grammar. "Nor" cannot be used this way.

Rhyming is off in the "yellow flowers..." quatrain.

Classic form usually defines the lines of each quatrain to be in Iambic pentameter or Iambic duodecameter. Poets have used both to great effect. Not that one needs to heed this rule of thumb. This is, after all, the 21st century.

General note on the diction and atmosphere of the poem. The language used is, unfortunately, still quite colloquial and wordy. This piece could be more succinct. Less, often, is more. Rhyming is important, yes, but not to the point where it sacrifices the main thrust. The piece describes an event like a narration. As per the comment to Garanor's piece "Cradle of Dreams" It feels as if this is a part of a paragraph in a novel. The emphasis on the feelings of the characters are somewhat downplayed, and if the words and ideas are distilled, could prove to be more impactive.

Some parts of the piece was good. There was a natural rhythm to some lines which were quite enjoyable. If I may interject, I must say that I oft lack these "natural rhythm" lines in my own work. Such lines are " Never did I thought I cared." and "In the winter standing still." The imagery presented in the piece are symbolic, however, not fully knowing the back ground story, they turned out some what vaguely. Once again, the main trust of the narrative was quite clear, and the protagonists' decision and how he made it is also quite clearly presented. However, the piece only inferrs to the readers the condition that the protagonist is in.

Overall, the piece focuses on many points which could have been expressed with a greater depth. The emotions of the protagonist seemed a bit... too easily moved. The tragic parts did not seem tragic enough... and the revelation was...adequate. As a reader of a series poetry in the same narrative vein, I liked the other pieces I've seen a bit better. However, this is by no means a negative on the themes in the narrative. The position in which the protagonist now stands is an idea that I deeply identify with and read with relish.

Keep it up, Corrusader.

Yours,
Wayward,

[Corrusader]

Sorry about not replying here, but work has gotten really busy (Wonderland.) Thanks for all the comments, I have a few questions, which I'll post later.

[Advent Childhe]

Greetings:

No worries.

You know... I have never in my life been 50 meters of Wonderland? Strange.

Yours,
Wayward,

[Bryan]

no? it's a great place... to find under aged workers that's being paid minimal wages that is... ... all fun times...

[Advent Childhe]

Greetings:

Well... the horrors in underaged employment... and the profit that can be gained from it. What can I say? From the employer's point of view, the allure is certainly there... and far outweighs any sort of moral or ethical bothers (grin).

You know, I think there is an essay in there some where... "Underaged employment is bad when examined from the individual's point of view, but is highly profitable from an employer's perspective."

(grin)

Yours,
Ex-underaged worker,

[Bryan]

*smacks wayne for his non-sense talks...*

[Advent Childhe]

Greetings:

(grin) the age old argument between what can be done and what is right.

For some reason, actually, for reasons that I can easily think of, many people get the two of them confused. Ah... perhapes I have a dark delight in reminding people of such subtle differences.

Well... still wish I could draw.

Yours,
Wayward,