NotACrane @ angelsGuignol

Moon hides behind cloud The hearth-fire crackles Autumn grows deeper.

O Scorpion, where is thy mask?

winter threatens; arrives not / some masks are not to be seen.

Seasons turn the wheel

The river in springtime

Carries winter’s snow

heaven’s wheel falls and shatters

what use is there then for law?

Winds blow, lightning strikes

The stricken branch does not fall

Without Heaven’s will

then, to arms against Heaven

to stand, refreshed, in spring’s rains!

Steel rusts under rains

Edge dulled, it returns to earth

What, then, endures?

rust, and memory of rust,

singing to us, from spilled blood.

The spilt crimson fades Names blacken tongues, breath departs War silences songs.

(This blasted thing is the bane of poets. Read it correctly yourself, I’m not fixing it.)

a song-full noble soul

departs the field, unsilenced

…who are you? Where did you learn the traditional forms? Yes, yes, I lost the game, I don’t care–I must know. Don’t tell me you were once a Matsu…

i didnt win yet babe we just put the game on pause, dont get your knickers in a twist

not a matsu, no, but i’ll take that as the highest possible praise. your traditional forms echo across worlds without number and i’ve never not found them beautiful. people found a way to make poetry into a kind of duel. how could i ever resist?

Ha! Would that the last Matsu I corresponded with had felt the same.

I must admit, your style is not what I expected. You turn my blade so fittingly I struggle to even summon another swing. The theme completed, resolved, but never in the way that I had predicted. I will freely expose my shame–I underestimated you. How delightful! I had not thought that was possible in this realm.

Alas, I am no Matsu–I take no joy in combat for its own sake–

Wait. You know of the Matsu? Of Rokugan?

only dimly aware of its contours i’m afraid, although enough to take that as a compliment. i suspect… in the past i’d have been far too impatient to thrive there, if i ever had been to visit, i think. and now… hmm.

anyways, if they didn’t rise to the challenge, it was their loss. you’re a very good poet.