Once Upon A Time is Now...
08:23 Oct 03 2007
Times Read: 573
Once upon a time,
There was a very old star. And this very old star shined on a very old tree. And in this very old tree there lived a very old rat. And this very old rat sang a very old song. And this very old song told a very old story of a long time ago before the faeries went away.
Now, everybody knows that a faery cannot die,
For death is made of bone and flesh and blood and mortal things,
But faeries are not flesh- they are instead of
wispy, weepy, willows, and they live as long as they have got their wings.
One night, a faerie found a mortal walking near her lake,
And he gave her quite a panic ans she gave him quite a start,
And when the morning cam ans she crept back home so quietly,
'Twas not a faerie soul could tell she'd given up her heart.
Now I know I needn't tell you what it is to fall anf fall and fall and
fall untul you've given up your life to one you love,
And the only way that she could stay in his arms was lose
her charms, laugh and cry and live and die as any mortal does.
And finally, that fateful night se flew into this very tree
Where you can see she hid her store of treasures through the years.
And when she flew out, she looked about, and oh, the strife, she had
a knife, and thus began the tale that could only end in tears.
So! She flew to find her lover, and he took her undercover
to a little room, as bride and groom, where they might share a bed,
And before she had the chance to lift her knife and end her
faerie life by cutting off her wings to live a mortal life instead,
He had caught her up into his arms, and said "my dear,
don't be alarmed, but all the gentle kindness I have shown
is at its end, but, why cry you so? Its time for you to know
my favorite game, to murder, maim, and tear the wings off winged things, my hand I humbly lend."
Then he opened up a case and watched the blood drain from
her face as one by one, he proudly rearranged his conquests large and small.
Beetles, bees, and gnats, and even bats, in tiny jars, their wings
detatched, "and yours," he said, "will be the crowning glory of my wall."
Then! Excited as a cruel child who de-wings flies and never cries,
He took what she so gladly would have given on her own,
But where she had planned a swift, clean cut, his love demanded
nothing but a massacre, where once wings where he wanted only bone.
Then he began his attack and tore the wings right from her back
All dripping gore, as she turned mortal and her silver blood ran red.
In that sickly, scarring second, she could feel the pain of
hundreds, thousands, millions, bloody, shocked, and screaming all inside her head.
After what could be a minute or an hour, she was silent
And had shut her eyes so tightly that it could have been a dream.
When she finally felt it safe to look around her, she was
all alone, and there, crushed in the corner, were her broken wings.
A scream....
...like none that you have ever heard, a scream so loud and long,
the "mad-doctors" come to find her and, the fools, they think she's gone,
Yes, she must have gone and cut herself and must
be made ot pray. So they took her to a cold dark house
in a cold dark street in a cold dark town, and once
they had her locked behind bars, they rode away...
'Twas I who followed that poor child from that first night to this,
How wild, and fair, and free she once had been before she was abused...
Now she sits inside her cell, just me, a plagued rat to tell
the tale of how she, to mortality, was cruelly intorduced...
The need for happy endings is a relatively modern one,
A superficial scratch reveals a shady, shabby lie
For a fate far worse than death is to become a living girl...
The only wings that you can hope for
Are an Angels when you die....
-Emilie Autumn
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