Red Robin19:57 Aug 23 2009
Times Read: 627
I found a bird
It's wing broken
I took it home
My ill fate token
to nurse it back to health
Oh the bird, my ill red robin
Sleeps in my arms, its heart is throbbing
And I shall nurse it's pain away
Oh my bird, Oh red robin
Fly away, your friends are sobbing
For I have yet to weep my say
Fly away, Your wings are strumming
Wind caressed beats are drumming
As I see my Red Robin Fly away
To yonder heights this day.
Erias
19:52 Aug 23 2009
Times Read: 628
Sky, Oh the velvet sky a fluttered with the wings of many.
A parapet of the many things, Wavering through the wind,
With might so worthy. Oh how to a goal they unite.
The scene in a painting, For paintings have life their own.
We see the Mildred fairies, in highlights, gold, and shades of black.
Fly to the depths of their own world and back.
From the corner of the canvas one might view, to the furthest most corner
Near the sun’s orange hue, the pixie with a lantern and how aware it seems of each passing second. A sentry perhaps guarding the gate to a distant land. A window we could not imagine. That we give birth to more then legends, Our brush strokes create more then fine lines and sketches.
The awareness of where to hide to provoke the world they live to come alive, to witness wonder in our eyes. Erias Is heard and called, the pixies fly to group, one and all, assembly in their minds, lanterns held high.
“It’s gates have opened, Erias. It’s eyes are still.”
The pixie to the very left yelled, it’s oil paint tunic, fluttering in the wind.
“It cannot be, the eyes nay open, can’t thy see? If it were open, the world’s would merge.” The sentry we had mentioned before, hovering still, finally spoke and all went hush. “ I had seen the Eyes from the neither field, they saw the glimpse, and now the world’s balance is askew. Our destiny’s world is damned.” The words had caused a panic. The cries began to come. What this meant I do not know. The pixies now in a fright began to scatter frantic to the depths. Their shrill cries echoing from the galleria. “Erias!” Was the call an old fairy floated down. From the depths of the portrait where nothing is. “I have seen it, The fall of the race of elves is coming, we must shut the gates of old.” “The journey will be long harsh, the journey to the land of men. To find the one who’s seen our world and put his life to an end.”
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