[h1]Welcome to the Voting and Feedback round for MFP#2![/h1]

[b]Voting and Feedback guidelines[/b]
[list]
[*]Please take your time to read through all the entries before voting for your favourite work. The reasons you base your vote on are up to you, as long the vote isn’t based on whether or not you like the author. 
It would be nice if you could share why you voted for a specific work. 
[*]Giving feedback is optional but highly encouraged. When giving feedback you should be respectful and constructive. It’s good to point out any flaws, the things you feel could be improved or why you didn't like something, but don’t be mean. 
Make sure to point out what you liked or what appreciated in the entry too.
[*]Contestant may and are encouraged to vote for and give feedback for the other entries, but don’t vote for your own entry. If contestants wish to withhold a vote and only give feedback, that is good too.
[*]The entries are anonymous unless the writer asked for having their name added. That being said, writers may claim their work at any time during or after the voting period. 
[*]The entry with the most votes will win, but in case of a tie a Contest Mod will cast the tie-breaker vote.
[*] You can vote for entries and post your feedback in this thread, but if you rather have your vote and/or feedback be anonymous you can PM it to [@Calle].
[*]The voting period deadline is September 21th, 9:00 CET, which is 7:00 game time (both times are in a.m.).
[/list]

[hr]

[h1]The Entries[/h1]

[hider=Stars]
	[center][sub][i]Stars[/i]

Swirling in the sky,
Bright, like candles, guiding through the night —
We fall… into the evening veil,
Grasping the memories of your light,
And there you are again, twinkling and shy.[/sub][/center]
[/hider]

[hider=Hood of shadow]
Pink is not orange, but it is green.
X-treme, or not to x-treme? Why 'woe' can be spectral although a halo can not. Therefore it's silver, blue, but not hollow.

Harrowing gets the meadow, like the quantum vectors of a Space-Mercenary defending a Maiden, our Ladies, THE Princess! Queens need just state and a Ranger is borne.

[i]Of the swords pledge to chop dragon flame into two jets sporadical, gut the neck, slash and kill it. And aim virtues each arrow towards an eye by the bys.[/i]
[/hider]

[hider=Interstellar]
Oh look to the heavens and despair,
Stare into the emptiness from below,
No distant beauty that was never there,
Fair stars which burned out long ago,

They who once had shined so bright,
Night must come to follow every day,
May stars guide us by their dying light,
Might we too soon lose our way,

Centuries traveled to reach the eye,
Why journey forth as distant memories,
Sentries blinking hung upon painted sky,
Die then in your cosmic serenity,

One by one winks out each star,
Far fates destined to be undone,
None remain reaps the repertoire,
Are certain ends which had begun,

Trust in them who are gone,
Spawn ripples as they combust,
Just as from them we live on,
Dawns a new star from the dust.
[/hider]

[hider="The Stars"]

The grass was cool under my skin while gazing up into what could very well be perceived as the heavens. Symbols and pictographs danced amongst the sky, changing, evolving into something so much more wonderful than our minds could ever comprehend. But what are they, those tiny dots of light that I swear are looking down on me as I return an expression of awe. To count them would take more time than could ever be given in our fleeting existence. But to know and understand them, however, could bring so much wisdom in such a short life. Science will tell you that they are merely “balls of gas held together by their own gravity”, and while that may be true, who is to say that they are not so much more?

Beyond their makeup, I see the mighty “wardens”; beings tasked to observe and protect the universe. To preserve its very essence and purity of the [i]wilds[/i] in which humanity has systematically repressed and destroyed over countless millennia. But even these billions of guardians, full of light, vibrancy, and resolve to follow their lifelong directives are slowly being snuffed out. A glow that shone so brightly throughout eternity, but had been forgotten over time in our finite minds. 

Humanity had better things to think about: Ourselves. 

So quickly were the stars dismissed as anything but what textbooks and media told us they should be. And they all took notice and wept as each day another light which had proudly lit a path in the cosmos, faded and eventually fizzled out of existence. No more were they concerned about protecting the planet, but rather wondering if they would live to light another night.

What is seen now as I look up towards the darkened sky, are the lost souls of children desperately searching for a purpose once again. Their luminescence only visible as a reminder of what they once were.

by [@Hellion]
[/hider]

[hider=Written in the stars]
	He was alone with stars, the sand, and the ocean waves. Even the moon had hidden itself that night, there were only stars in the sky, and when he looked down they reflected off blackness of the ocean. For each constellation he could name the figures and the stories he saw in them. What was drawn in the stars was the only thing that all could see equally, it lived on after men had died and whole nations had crumbled. 

	As a boy he looked at the stars every night to see if they ever changed. The philosophers had told him that no man had ever seen a new shape in the sky, though they shift and move with the seasons and choose to hide or reveal themselves, the tapestry of the heavens remains unchanged. Every story of the gods painting a new persona in the sky happened so long ago no one could say the number of years that had passed; it troubled even the wisest scholars, and they debated whether it was that none were worthy of the honor or if the age of such honors had passed. 

	As a young man, before he was due to lead his first army into battle, his father took him to the tombs of those who had come before. He looked at the memorial carvings, inspecting each one, even those where he years had obliterated the work and made it unintelligible. All those revealed was that there was there was once something worth remembering that had been lost to time. That night he looked at the stars again and made a vow to leave his record in a place where it would never fade; if he had to fight and conquer until all the world was his to be deemed worthy, he would do just that.

	In the present, on the beach, he was lying on his back in the sand, ignoring any thoughts about how to address his men the next day. He was one man among the grains of sand, the infinite, indistinguishable mass, so many that he told himself no number could describe the quantity of it all. To lose one or a thousand to the ocean was to lose nothing, all remained as it was. Decades later, after the death of that conqueror and the crumbling of his empire, a learned man would come to that same beach and find a flaw in his reasoning. If even one grain occupied space, then must be a number that would represent enough grains to fill all of the creation to the stars above. That number was among the many of his calculations that survived even though no account of his life did. Neither the conqueror nor the mathematician hang in the sky today, and yet both are remembered. Who is remembered more is an unanswered question.
[/hider]