And over there with skin so fair
Sits an elven maid
With hair so long and eyes so wise
She must be heaven made
And on a hill not far from you
A boy and girl, both twin
Appear to play some sort of game
You watch to see who will win
The boy is tall, the girl not
Both with hair so fair
On each their forehead a gem is placed
Each shines with a happy glare
And suddenly from behind
You hear a person shout
You twirl around to take a look
And see a gypsy dance about
In her hands are metal disks
That make a clacking sound
And at her feet there lies a man
Rolling on the ground
Her clanking stops, the man stands up
His hair is in disray
His clothes give him a comical look
But his eyes can hold you at bay
Who are these folk, where are they from
What is in their past
You wish you knew about their lives
But you know it will not last
The scene starts to fade, the fog sets in
You turn to get a look
To this place you have to leave
From which the fates have took.
Here's a story of a Goblin girl
Her life thrown up and down
Her mother dead, her brother gone
Her story could make you frown
Her brother, killed in a fight
Her mother raped and sole
A wanderer with no family
How could she be so bold
And then on a cold and starry night
In pain no one could tell
A man came around to help her out
Her wounds only he could heal
They fell in love, then joined in soul
A child she bore him one
The little girl name is Alana
Her smile is like the sun
Alana's not her only child
There's a son from a man before
He beat her down, and held her there
And took her like a whore
She birthed a boy, who looked like her
And oh, she loves him well
What is this child's name you ask
It's Dimitri Alexander Amnell.
What Would Happen
What would happen....
what would happen if I told you I love you....
Would you hate me? Love me? Fear me?
What would happen.....
What would happen if I left?
Would you wonder? Grieve? Rejoice?
What would happen....
What would happen if I cried?
Would you comfort me? Laugh at me? Cry with me?
What would happen....
What would happen if I hurt you?
Would you hate me? Forgive me? Resent me?
What would happen...
What would happen if I succeed?
Would you be happy for me? Envy me? Forget me?
So many questions....
So many question that go unasked.
Some are difficult, interesting, hurtful.
When is the time....
When is the time to ask the questions?
Will it be today? Tomorrow? Never?
The Road Less Taken
It is the road less taken
traveled by few,
but the ones who do walk it
seem to be always alone.
Sure, they meet plenty of
people along the way,
for their paths intersect
with many more,
and in their own way
affect each and every one.
In a wanders life,
many people will open
their doors and walk
with you for awhile,
but when the road
becomes rough, they
go back to their houses,
leaving you out in
the dark, all alone and afraid.
And the cycle begins again.
There are few who stick it out
With the wanderer, but they
aren't great in numbers,
but they are true friends.