I for one have never been a big fan of the “fantasy” genre, to the dismay of some of my peers. So pardon if I’m not huddled in the small corners of random cinemas with the fellow Hogwarts on the eve of the latest Potter release. Nevertheless, while jotting down a couple of random lines, I noticed that I had created a skeleton to a possible fanciful epic/short story. I'm pretty excited because I never ventured to write a narrative in such length . It is quite allegorical being that it details the events leading to a ten year milestone that shall remain reticent. Hopefully, you can derive some meaning from this entry. This is basically a summation of the story, written in metaphorical pros of course. Enjoy…
PS: I usually don't say this but your feedback and personal interpretations would be greatly appreciated
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I’ve been chasing a Loch Ness
With a Likeness of Myth like …Distortion
Strapped with an Array of Amulets
Adorned by Lady Luck every 7th of July
A Checklist of a Checkered Past
That Pass as Experience,
And a Vile Filled With Shards
Of Shattered Dreams That fell
From Climbing Tall Tales
On a Rickety, Makeshift
Rainbow That Needs Five Coates
Just to Appear Faded...
So Off I go, into an excursion of relief,
Taking temporary residence
In splintered cardiac lodges
Pumping through dissected lifelines
(Heartbreak hotels)
Its' residents offer their aid-first,
But I must take this trip alone
Off into a Cavalcade of Pulled Sirens
Flight Deficient Sprites
And a chorus of Pseudo Queens of hearts
That sing fractured fairy tales
Of Tainted Jewels Circumvented
With Enigma's Purpose (Sigh)...
Some of the nights were caressed with a colored lunar
And sprinkled with rose pedals…
Awakening latent abilities
Allowing me to Paint (Stroke) Paint
Pictures With the colors of eye sores,
Still, I saw that fragility still existed
So more swipes of edged words at
Vanity fairs carefully shielding the
Corrosion of armor while battling
Barons thought to be dead by
Jousted personalities left
Me on the wrong
Side of witch like ways in a world
Of what if wonderment,
Held together by the hands of twine
(Such a Brave Tailor)
I can’t return to a ravaged home
Constructed with punctured memories
I rather fill it with the next six months
As I arrive at ten years
