Poetry Self Study #3

[wakingupto42]

A Plea to Falkor the Luck Dragon

Like the Childlike Empress, I have fallen ill

Parts of my rich Fantasia are winking out

A land once lush and dense with imagining

Replaced with darkness unknown

Unseen – I travel within to find an answer.

 

But all the while I am being chased

Big black beast – thrives – follows me through

The G’mork – messenger for The Nothing

 Helping to eat away the world – with sweet words

Wolf concealed by sheep’s skin

Convinces me there is no hope

Conspires to stop me before I find a cure.

 

In The Swamps of Sadness I cannot get any farther

I only have to believe in myself

The power of the swamp rendered useless

But the hero Atreyu and his horse Artax are both missing

Their loss is mine

I have no one to carry me out

 No friend to see me through

And not even the ancient turtle Morla can give me wisdom.

 

The Auryn slips from around my neck – plunging beneath the silky black waters

And though I search frantically

 I am unable to retrieve the will to go on

My inner Fantasia slowly succumbs to the decay – sleep is restless and without dreams

Without them I will be lost

And I begin to sink beneath the Swamps of Sadness.

 

Looking into the night sky I pray to see the slow swim of white lightning

Undulating ever lower

He will come to save me just like he did for Atreyu in adventures past

At the last second will whisk me into the air

 Far from the G’Mork’s reach

Take me to a place where I might heal.

 

But I haven’t seen him yet

And I know - The Nothing approaches.