Prophecy Six Blog

Sharing My Unedited Writing Experiences & Life Experiences.



Fire & Gold (Haiku)

The trees are golden.

As far as my eyes can see.

Like fires burn at night.


Photograph taken by: Deanna Wiltshire

Location: Celebration Forest, London, Ontario

Look Through Me

Look through me and what do you see?

A world beyond mere fantasy.

Trees of green, orange, and gold.

Summer fades to autumn’s cold.


Photograph taken by: Deanna Wiltshire

Location: Celebration Forest, London, Ontario

Ember Leaves (Haiku)

Ember leaves reaching.

Stretching up towards the sky.

Wanting more than ground.


Photograph taken by: Deanna Wiltshire

Location: Celebration Forest, London, Ontario

They were supposed to be safe

They were supposed to be safe.
The one place we could be us. Where we could hold hands and kiss without glares or unwarranted stares. The place where we could love openly without cruel whispers from those that judge us without even knowing who we are. A place we could dance without fear of being escorted out by security because ‘two boys dancing that close isn’t right’.
They were supposed to be safe.
The one place we didn’t have to think about the world outside; where we walk down the streets dodging physical assaults and insults like grenades. Where our younger selves hid because we didn’t know how our families would react to ‘loving wrong’. And when we did free ourselves from our own chains, afraid of who we would lose, we soon discovered who our true allies were in this world and where we asked ourselves why we didn’t come out sooner…
They were supposed to be safe.
A place where we could find like-minded people to grow our circle of friends and find someone that sees the true us. The real us. To love those we love not because ‘we want to hurt you’. Not because ‘it’s a phase’ but because love is love is love is love.
They were supposed to be safe.
So, when the place we feel safe – our church, our school, our home – is blown apart by the fears we try to lock out we feel a wave of fear, anger, loss wash over our community. With loss we come together and do what we’ve always done. We listen, love, and support one another and teach the world we are strong because when they see us united the world will change for the better.

Little Robin


Little robin in my tree

Tilting its head and watching me.

Its body bouncing on the limb

Sun’s a setting and daylight dims.

Little robin fly home and rest

Cuddle up warm in your nest.

Tomorrow will bring a brand new day

And your branch will be here for you to stay.


Saw a little robin sitting outside my window in the tree next to my apartment. It was watching me type away on the windowsill. Every time I looked at him he would tilt his head. This poem – although not one of my best – came to my mind and I wanted to share it. The picture isn’t mine. I wanted to take a picture of him but all I had was my cellphone and the resolution of the pictures were carp. Yes, I typed carp on purpose so don’t correct me. I’m trying to lessen my swearing in my life so that translates to more creative swearing in my blog.

Anywho, that is all for now. 🙂

Twas a week before Giving Day


*Read like “Twas the Night Before Christmas”*

Twas a week before Giving Day and inside the castle,

an old sage was pacing, his pepper hair all frazzled.

His large friend – the Steward – did nothing but stare,

listening to the sage rant his concerns through the air.

The sage wanted to get his apprentice a gift,

but didn’t know what would help her mood lift.

Caldor knew the girl had all her gifts ready.

She had wrapped them for Cáel, Foe… hell everybody.

So, the sage had to think.

He thought long and thought hard.

His large friend then stood to leave, without any regard.

“Where are you going?” Caldor spouted in fear.

“You are supposed to help me think of a gift for Liora this year.”

“I got her a dress, somethin’ small an’ sweet.

She don’ want much, just somethin’ useful that she needs.

Don’ think too hard, it’ll come right to yah.

Now I must see me son and me wife if that’s all ‘ight with yah?”

The Steward lumbered off.

The sage paced with more speed.

Gift giving was easy for those who knew greed.

Chijin weren’t gifters.

They hated this day.

He’d rather eat fish hash

than participate in Giving Day.


Meanwhile upstairs on the second level,

a whole other person was having the same trouble.

He tore through his books and looked at sheet music.

He plucked at his lute and believed he blew it.

Blew it by not getting her the right gift.

Liora was special and deserved every bit.

He wanted to give her a journal, but no –

she just got a new one three days ago.

A dress?

No, the Steward had gotten that handled.

Some shoes?

No, those would be left sitting up on the mantel.

The ginger haired prince sat cross-legged on his bed.

Looking and hoping something would pop into his head.

Everyone was struggling to find the girl the perfect gift.

With everything that had happened Liora deserved it.


So, let’s jump to Liora sitting on her windowsill.

A big book on her lap, her demeanour calm and chill.

She stared out her window, towards the snow filled garden below.

She didn’t like being inside when their were other places she could go.

The presents she had for the others lined along her desk.

Each wrapped with brown paper to conceal them from guests.

The old sage had popped in while she had been wrapping,

He had been surprised to see all the items she had been packing.

Marcia had helped her get the gifts for the boys,

but Foe and Caldor’s gifts filled her with joy.

She knew the two men, what they liked and what they needed.

She had made them their gifts without being impeded.

Now she could sit. Relax and be merry.

While everyone else was stressing over last minute prezzies.


Caldor hurried through the courtyard and through the large gateway.

There was only one day to go before bloody Giving Day.

He was the only one without a gift.

If he had nothing for her, she surely would be miffed.

And who could blame her with how much work the girl had done?

Liora took care of him delaying her fun.

He needed a gift that would show her he cared.

That he loved her, and never wished her to go elsewhere.

Yes, yes, this was not a Chijin tradition

But the girl wasn’t bitter or declined participation.


Cáel fiddled with brown paper, his wrapping not so good.

He thought he could wrap it but obviously he couldn’t.

The corner was showing and so was the spine.

He’d wrap another layer to hide it behind.

He hoped that she’d liked it. No he knew that she would.

The girl loved her gryphons and spent all the time with them that she could .

She had voiced her attraction and interest in riding,

which was perfect ’cause what he got her would tie in.

He had also gotten her another item to unwrap.

More of a thank you than a giving gift – she’d likely call him a sap.

Or silly boy, or freckles. All pet names he liked.

Just thinking of that made his cheeks blush bright.

His heart it then fluttered, as he went back to wrapping.

“I hope she’ll like what I got her,” he muttered, as his gut began flipping.


Liora was holding a basket in hand,

all her gifts ready to give on command.

It was Giving Eve and soon would be dinner.

She hoped that she did well for a Giving Day beginner.

Sitting down in the dining hall on one of the oak chairs,

she appeared to be the only one seated there.

The flames in the fireplace danced on the walls,

casting the armour’s shadows very thin and very tall.

There came clomping from behind her, as the king appeared in her sight.

He was brutish, and mean not due to his height.

He had called her a Snake, a brat, and other worse names.

She still got him a gift to try to lessen his insults and blame.

Scurrying over with a glass bottle in hand,

Liora held it out before her to where the man chose to stand.

His brow knotted, jaw clenched, as he peered down towards her.

She just smiled and gestured the gift hoping she wasn’t being too forward.

He took it and turned it, with a questioning glance.

“What’s this?” he grumbled, stiffening his stance.

“A bottle of malt liquor from the city of Calin.

I over heard you asking for a drink here and that one you mentioned.

Caldor said you liked it… so I hope that you do.

I just wanted to give a gift that would be just for you,”

Liora then smiled, scurrying back to her spot –

just as the King went lumbering off.

Had she insulted, or maybe heard wrong?

Maybe she angered him or came on too strong?

Liora didn’t care, at least she had tried.

He could go storming off to his office to hide.


Dinner was good and the gifts were grand.

Foe gave her a dress. Marcia gifted a leather hair-band.

Caldor gave her a book engraved with her name,

and Cáel gave her a book on how gryphons were tamed.

Each gift was wonderful and showed that they cared.

From what she could tell, the love that she felt was shared.

Caldor was using his new tobacco for his pipe,

the old sage had tucked the bag of tea in his robe for later that night.

Foe was giggling like a little boy with glee

when she gave him the ointment to help with his hip and knee.

Marcia was testing her new hairbrush on her golden locks,

while Druce played with his new wooden figure of a gryphon hawk.

It was Cáel she approached, who was wearing his goofy grin.

He had been focusing on restring his lute so he could give it a spin.

She had gifted him strings and sheet music to match,

as he glanced up at her before taking a chance.

“Yay, look pretty tonight,” he muttered before swallowing hard,

“and I like me gift… although restrin’ is hard.”

“Thank you, and yes… but new strings were needed,”

she smiled, he chuckled. Now he could play unimpeded.

Marcia began singing a holiday tune,

and everyone joined her – who stood in the room.

Malt wine, and spiced cakes were brought out to display.

But there was one person missing from the holiday.

The king hadn’t returned to the dining hall for dinner.

He wasn’t their for the cake, wine, or malt liquor.

Just then there came a booming voice calling her a name.

“Brat!” Charn shouted, the singing halted. His eyes burnt like a flame.

He lumbered over, a small package in his monstrous hand.

She hadn’t expected a gift from the large brutish man.

Yes, it was just a candle – likely just from his desk –

but the king was trying… he was doing his best.

“Thank, Charn,” Liora smiled from ear-to-ear.

“Yeah, yeah,” the king waved her off with a sneer.

Halloween Poem

Dark tonight the sky will be

Where children can’t wait to collect candy

Masks and costumes

Black cats and fun

Hallow Eve’s for everyone

Dress up as a scary beast

Go to friend’s places for Hallow Eve’s feast

Drink and dance ‘til your heart desires

Halloween’s a night to be inspired.

Kanrow’s Prophecy of the Six: Prologue

They came to me,

The voices of three,

I thought myself mad for what I have seen.

The truth I see now,

It’s not all in my head,

They wish me to tell you the truth they stead.

The truth of the end of an era in time,

Where greed of men flourish,

Where gold rots the mind.

Where land out weights life,

Where money out weights trust,

Where no one are friends and where unities a bust.

I warn you my people,

The chaos will sing,

The fires will reach, it will burn everything.

The people will cry,

But the Gods won’t descend,

Not until the first of the sign to the end.

So listen my people,

For my words they are true,

I give you this book so you’ll know what to do.

The Prophecy of Six – Page 1


For those who don’t understand what this is, it is reference to the book of Prophecy’s written before the actual events of the first book (that is being worked at the moment).

The Prophecy of The Six was written by a Chijin scholar by the name of Kanrow 200 years before the current era. The book is about the end of days, as put forth by the Gods, who supposedly spoke through Kanrow, so he could warn the people of Gaitan about the Gods plans.

Suffice it to say, most people thought he was hearing voices in his head and they considered anyone who began to follow the Prophecy as Chaos Singers, as they basically preached about the end of days and the chaos that the land will endure before the Prophecy is complete.

Chaos Singers are nice people but most people look at them as fanatics for what they are doing. 😛

Fly Like a Falcon


On falcon wings I fly so far.

To the mountain peaks of Mor.

To seas of blue. To seas of green.

From the land of fire, back home to my king.

Fly like a falcon. Glide far, upon high.

Feeling the wind and sun in the sky.

Fly like a falcon. Glide far, upon high.

Over lush fields; the river’s my guide.


This is a song Cáel chooses to sing, when introducing his friend to the lute. A translated Dermite song, about exploring the world of Gaitan.

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