A Prologue to a Sleeping Tale

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Years ago, in a land of green,
Where Fate’s little hands
Filled magic into the trees,
The hunts for faeries ran through the land
And the tale of power flew by like sand

Their wings held life itself underneath
Ancient, mysterious, powerful and free,
With what, too easy to catch with a leash,
And so the faeries disappeared with no plea
While man soon stumbled and scrapped his knee

Gone went the colors of magic and time
Down came the fall of logic and crime

An unheard cry of freedom and peace
Was emptied into man’s scornful pile of grease

The dust of the faeries’ crushed wings broke apart,
The magic, now dead, brought false joy in their war,
Which where the story of a young boy’s heart
Shall now ask Fate for its hands once more
To bring the lost faeries’ magic into the humans’ core

And now Fate’s little hands are hard at work,
Inside the forest where magic had hid,
The birth of a faerie brought creatures to lurk
“A faerie of pure white wings!” They had said,
Wings full of life that she must mend

But, shh! Hush now, be still and merry,
The tale of revolutions has not yet began
The coming of a hero and a curious faerie,
Is sleeping peacefully with no demands
Its slumber deep and waiting for a single command

So let us clasp our hands in a heartfelt prayer,
For a land that is made of desires and wishes,
For a fantastic tale of trust and traitors,
And for our own wings that are hidden beneath these layers.





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