Filk: Mane Of Gold
- a filk of Sting - Fields of Gold
You'll remember her, as the westward flown,
atoned for sins and folly.
You'll recall the past, and her searching eye,
as you trot in fields of old.
Though she wrote her woe, you to gaze upon
Amidst the realms of folly.
In her hooves, you slept, as a mom becomes.
Secure in strands of gold.
"Will you trust in me, will accept my love,
Despite my eyes and folly?
We're together now, under painted sky,
Bundled up in legs to hold."
Sing the mail mare's hoof, steady as a sword,
Against the cries of folly.
See her boldly cry, when they cast you out,
When you wept in fields of gold.
"I always hope princesses like you
Never forget where they have come from.
In the air of the night still left,
We'll talk in words of hope,
and hide from winter's cold."
Many realms surpassed s
Lost ShipThe wooden vessel drifted upon the glassy stillness, suspended above and below twinkling stars. They brought no comfort, and served no guide. Only creaking timbers broke the silence.
Eyes stared unto the horizon, as if by force of will another could be seen. Months had passed without sign. Still she searched, each night digging its talons further into her bones.
The crew still served as in mourning, following her ever-more desperate orders. She had heard whispers, though nopony would have directed them to her face. Whispers of madness. Of a futile quest. Shushed as she entered the galley, their eyes avoiding contact.
She took her meals alone in their cabin, now. Where the whispers wouldn't reach her. Where she could see the candy locket and bloodshot eyes staring back from the mirror. Even they were filled with accusation, with reflection. She should not have sent them on a foolish errand, should have gone instead, should have overruled her protests, should have listened. And now there
For ScootalooWhere can you run, spun upon dashed hope:
In arms of friends in folly, seeking path by dwindle-light?
A rainbow mare discarded, still sisters not regarded,
keep self-heart closed and guarded, basket hid from shown.
All skies grey above untamed, wings too weak to roam.
Alas, a past entombed.
And no canon's guide.
Filk: She'll Always be LyraBon-Bon sings "She'll Always be Lyra"
- a filk of Billy Joel's "She's Always a Woman"
She's a mare of few words, says a lot in disguise
She tests my composure with her beautiful thighs
And she's always concealed her name nervously
Now Strings of a Heart, but she'll always be Lyra to me
I can't take all her love, she's an artist heart bleeding
She plays soft somber truth, by small moments' reprieve
And she's shown me red river, below the marquee
Yeah, she roleplays in bed and she'll always be Lyra to me
Ohhh... she gives all of herself
She can sit like a man, she's a mare of the night
Ohhh... and inspires the world
And you never ask why, she just opens my mind
And so tightly I'll hold when for Orpheus she's grieving
Then she'll suddenly shock me and bring up conceiving
But she'll weather the worst and give hope I can see
Hug her all to myself 'cause she'll always be Lyra to me
She is lazy and kind and she's savvy with foals
She wails song as a planxty, under nobody's rule