Doki Doki Vaikuntha Club (Act 1)

[peninhand]

Who: Anyone signed-up for the plot!
When: July 27th
Where: Curti Center
What: Monika's opened a literature club and the members have to share a poem together for this event. It can be embarrassing, but there's nothing to lose!
Warnings/Notes: No warnings whatsoever! Listen to this track to enhance your poem sharing experience.

Comments

[alborada]

[ Much to her own surprise, Sylvarie found herself sitting amidst the outworlders with a thin leather-bound journal in her lap. Though she had already considered attending the club on her own, it was Primrose’s insistence that had truly caught her off guard. The moogle certainly has never made her disapproval for many creative arts unknown, yet this one she had deemed “suitable” and “ladylike,” whatever that meant.

Nonetheless, it had been years since she had last taken part in any sort of poetry or literature, so while she may have given her best effort, there was no denying the nervous hesitation in her voice when she extracted her poem. ]

This is… I’m not sure I was ever good at any of this, but I appreciate your taking the time to listen.

[ Breathing in, so began the steady rhythm, voice filled with melancholy as the words slipped past. ]

Memories from long ago
Paint your waters with pitch black
Storms above and rage below
A vessel drowning with just one crack

Yet echoes from further still push forward with all might
Sunshine bright and beauty bestowed
Waves ebbing and sand white

Perilous is the might of the sea
Her waters refuge for a monster’s den
Yet the same sea does grant reprieve
Breathing life, again and again

Many are the facets of the sea
Merry yet sorrowful, her song a forgotten plea

Of the two distant echoes, which shall ring true?
Days of laughter and joy, or the night when terror grew?
All in due time, some would say
Yet with each wave that recedes, so too do the days fray

[ Finished, she looked to her listener timidly. Criticism she could handle, but that made it no less intimidating when it came to such material. ]

[modelcivilian]

It's okay. I don't think a lot of us are well-versed in... well, writing poems.

[That pun had been entirely unintentional; meant to be more encouraging for her to present than anything. But, patience... and soon, he listened to her recite her poem, his expression neutral and his mind maybe running far too soon before she's done. He needed to give it time; there was a lot to unpack... he thinks. He wondered how personal the piece was to her.]

I'm not an expert at all, but I think it was very good. It has the right flow - ah, no pun intended (again) - and I feel... there's a sadness to it.