Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Everyone attached to their phones like glue.
It’s all the same, in every door,
Melancholia past the grave of folklore.
Thou dread the deadly dragon’s death
Now death to drake’s difference.
Here lies love of lindwurm, luck and wonder.
Replaced with fame and media’s blunder
We are caged at what age?
Lest we fear the mage’s rage.
Our swords, spells and soldiers made with honor
Could pierce the trickster’s bargaining,
Trolls and goblin’s mischief
And even giant’s hide.
Never could fae’s purity,
Be touched by devil’s hands,
Skeletons, zombies, phantoms or even reapers.
Behold our half feathered lords
Basilisk, griffin, Pegasus and even the manticore.
As we fade,
You wouldn’t care
Your beauty means nothing
Thine beauty is vanity.
You’ll need us when infinity is found,
You’re the ones who’s missing out.
All of those like me.