Nancy Ann Creed

  The Shadow in the Room My words mean nothing, they drift like falling leaves, Unheard and unvalued, while my spirit grieves,  speak into the vacuum of your cold indifference, Finding no echo, no bridge, no deliverance. My heart means nothing, it's a pulse, a quiet plea, For a glimmer of worth that you refuse to see, Beating against the cage of your neglectful gaze, Lost in the fog of these hollow, endless days. You do what you want, in your self-centered tide, With little care for me, or the pain I must hide, Sweeping through the hours with a callous disregard, While I am left to mend what you have torn and scarred. Significance fades, I am sealed by fate, An afterthought wrapped in isolation's state, Waiting on the periphery of your vibrant world, Like a banner forgotten, forever left unfurled. Until you need something, a favor to lend, Then I am important, a convenient friend, Suddenly the shadow gains a sudden, sharp light, And I am summoned briefly from t...

  Many years ago, a creeping, insidious darkness tore apart the very fabric of existence, fracturing the delicate peace between the realms. This cataclysmic event was later known simply as the Great War. It was a conflict of staggering magnitude, a blight that touched every single world and every realm within them. The air was thick with the stench of iron and ozone, and the ground continually trembled beneath the tramp of massive, opposing armies. Both sides—the defenders of the light and the forces of the shadow—grew their legions with ruthless efficiency, their sole purpose the annihilation of the other. The cost in lives was immeasurable, the casualties so heavy that entire generations were wiped out in the span of a single battle. Yet, out of this horrific bloodshed, new alliances were forged, desperate pacts between unlikely companions united by the common enemy, even as ancient, trusted alliances crumbled into dust. No world suffered a more profound and tragic transform...