To celebrate the launch of this FIRST EDITION of a self-published pamphlet containing all 11 poems in the Complete Collection of BALADIN’S DREAM and OTHER TALES by edenbray, along with full Authors Notes, I am offering a signed, printed hard-copy for just £5 inc. post/packing for orders within the United Kingdom and £6.50 inc. shipping for orders outside the UK ~ This is a limited time offer!

#NOTE ~ please email ME ;~ or post a comment in the comments box at the foot of this page and request details of how to make payment ~ including your name and the address where you would like the printed copy to be sent ~ PLEASE indicate if it is to be a gift.                      Many thanks ~ edenbraytoday


⚜︎ ⚜︎ ⚜︎


TO Celebrate the occasion I am re-posting all eleven parts  –  Today it is BALADINS DREAM  ~ Part VIII ~ FAREN and MELIOR


⚜︎ ⚜︎ ⚜︎



by edenbray



Authors note ~

This was the 1st published part of the almost unending collection of prose that is Baladin’s Dream. I wrote this first poem in the miscellany in 1990.

Baladin ~ a sage, a prophet, a mystic, a mythical and spiritual visitor to our planet and possibly others, who in his latter years recounts from his vast memoirs of life & experience ~ stories of tragedy and joy, either true or imagined, in a rambling tome of vivid recollections including deep, biographical insight.

A Dream ~ The Many Parts of this Dream take on various poses and deal with different facets of human experience, faith, myth and fantasy and occur within various time zones and cultural settings. Whether these stories indicate that Baladin has kind of always been with us ~ as an observer of humanity, both life and death, who tells tales with his own wisdom and from his own, unique perspective – I leave you the reader to sumise and decide

Join in with Baladin’s Dream and possibly you may be enriched, enthused, enlightened and even en-wisened!?!                              

                                                                                          ~ edenbraytoday








Melior, the strange creature

stumbled toward him

in a blind and ashen fit

he frothed and tore at him

with blind rage and anger

he was lost in an uncontrollable frenzy.


Faren caught the strange terror

by his mane and flinging him madly

against the hard stone floor

he drew the glinting rapier from it’s scabbard

and with a cry as clear and

hearty as he could muster

threw himself upon the strange animal

and buried the stinging steel

between its breasts.

Melior convulsed and tore again

with giant hairy paws

reaching vainly at Faren’s throat

his grey and scaly tail

lashed in a wild circle

but his assailant caught him

a severe blow to the temple

with a mailed fist.

For the first time Melior

uttered a vocal sound,

a terrified cry as the

rapier swung mercilessly

removing a large patch

of his grey spongy flesh

and causing an ooze

which ran with an acrid odour

down his terrified face,

his movements now involuntary,

strange, with garbled, choking noises

and a wild strangled sobbing

as he writhed violently.

The noises abated

the stench now sickening

A final staggered, spasmic reaction

then Melior gasped no more…


Who took the sun

and made a hole in the sky?

Who dressed and cloaked

in dark clouds stole forth

in the daylight and plundered the earth?

Whose murky thoughts invaded

more than a single generation?

Whose evil countenance smiled

and silenced loves sweet

moments for a long hour?

Melior’s thunder was fierce

his lightening a sharp tongue

that lashed and flailed

His anguish a bitter poultice

for the misery born in his heart

and many born old and dying.

Melior,  grey and pale

starved of suns warmth

and again roasted black

by suns fiercest rays,

outcast and jeolous

his night knew no end.


Faren, stood a victor unvanquished

but saddened by the

misery of the battle

with the great grey Melior

now a cold heap lying

who had been a champion

a darkened prince

his latest form now relieved of terror

which seemed to relax

as a rose hue falling

from this evening light

washed over Faren’s haggard frame

almost bringing to him

the joy of early, regal youth.

Faren knew oh so keenly

the hopeless pain Melior had born

but the gas that now reeked the air

causing even the ground

upon he lay to stain

was indeed the final admission

that Melior’s very life had been evil

and as he walked from the scene

his weapon lying spent

beside its final purpose

a calm and special moment grew.


Faren’s face now caught

the light of the evening sky

it threw a strange colour

an aura around him,

a sky green that drew gold

his eyes still lowered

out of some greater respect

for the many sad tales

this night preceded.

Faren walked toward a turquoise haze

sheltered green by a grassy bank

and as he walked

the dark dreams fell from him like shadows.

He passed through them

his head lifting imperceptibly to the light

while it seemed that figures were appearing

not individuals admiring

more, triumphant armies adoring

as a gentle hollow horn blew

and gained momentum

stirring both sense and emotion

the gathered clans assembling

of every righteous battle won.


Now Faren seemed to bear a scar

and every victors garland hung

to his neck most gracious.

He was now adorned royal

and to the horn could now be heard

an anthem quire singing

sweet pain it drew easy.

Farens’ temples bathed in golden light

now held firm and honoured.

A gentleness distilled

his eyes softened grey, set

lifted the many noble

champions to see.

Gold and silver lined the crowds

a magical dawn, a living allegory

a famed tale, an open hand

as now hung the herald shields

polished bright and glorious

now stored the arms of battle

now formed these soft, sweet words

of memories past when pain had been real

and blood the currency of decision

when the terror of Melior a fabled dragon

may be writ or sung

and the error of the story enormous.


Now sing the birds

not mourn the wound of creation

Now dance the maidens

not swear the curse of youth

Now laugh the ancients

the eternal children

Now skip the young men

not shame the burden of honour

the bracelet of respect.

Faren’s peoples joy

the uninhibited spectacle

this celebratory feast

this betrothal ceremony

it has begun and never, never would it end.


written 30.06.1990 ~ edited 10.04.2011


thanks for listening …

About edenbray

I am a writer ... a beat poet who began writing poetry way back in 1966 ... 'edenbray is born ugly, wet, covered in blood, mucous & bodily functions, the effluence of my short life' ... I recently published my 1st solo Anthology - the best of 60 years writing - previously I ran my own Art Supplies Store for 40 yrs before I became a full-time writer I am a Blogger who has posted 1,000 poems - available in 24 themed booklets ... please ask for details + leave a 'like' or a comment for my encouragement, thank you so much for listening - I truly value your opinion on my work ~ in fact I literally survive on your creative input ~ edenbray
This entry was posted in Baladin's Dream, PROG-PROSE and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s