A letter of reverie and fantasies
I want an escape inside a fairytale.
I could run with horses that gallop across fields, amid deer that prance behind their forest green shields.
I could live amongst men without anything more beyond chores, carefully picking apples in case of a settling score. Maybe then, my days wouldn't be such a bore.
I could melt a beast's heart without changing, and the dishes would witness a glimmer of hope as we learn that nothing can be kept in pristine condition. Perhaps, then, I would not feel people estranging.
I could prick a finger and fall into a sleep so deep that I would wake well-rested within my castle of many dreams to keep, knowing that tears of mine would not guiltily seep.
I could swim with a fork in my hair, a magnificent tail, and a voice that is fair, but a part of me would still want a grand witches lair.
I could walk through the forest with a basket of freshly-made soup. Perchance, it's possible that the Wolf, surely, wouldn't snoop. The egg drop soup may be good, however, my motivation in creating a delicious delicacy isn't made to easily loop.
I could make a dress for a ball-like masquerade and my heart would be content with seeing even a glimpse of a parade. If friends never came, I still wouldn't feel dismayed.
I can make soup for bears or sew fabrics just for their young one to stylishly wear. Yet, I know that what I make would never compare.
My hair would finally be long, where I want it, and healing properties would be imbedded from the flowers' song. Still, I wouldn't necessarily belong.
I have grown older and wiser, yes, but a part of me would travel through lands of unknown terrain, still, in search of a lamp that would grant me a wish of my own undoing.
Thus, for a reason so complex, I would consequently welcome such regret.
"I want an escape inside a fairytale."
© written.in.emeralds
I could run with horses that gallop across fields, amid deer that prance behind their forest green shields.
I could live amongst men without anything more beyond chores, carefully picking apples in case of a settling score. Maybe then, my days wouldn't be such a bore.
I could melt a beast's heart without changing, and the dishes would witness a glimmer of hope as we learn that nothing can be kept in pristine condition. Perhaps, then, I would not feel people estranging.
I could prick a finger and fall into a sleep so deep that I would wake well-rested within my castle of many dreams to keep, knowing that tears of mine would not guiltily seep.
I could swim with a fork in my hair, a magnificent tail, and a voice that is fair, but a part of me would still want a grand witches lair.
I could walk through the forest with a basket of freshly-made soup. Perchance, it's possible that the Wolf, surely, wouldn't snoop. The egg drop soup may be good, however, my motivation in creating a delicious delicacy isn't made to easily loop.
I could make a dress for a ball-like masquerade and my heart would be content with seeing even a glimpse of a parade. If friends never came, I still wouldn't feel dismayed.
I can make soup for bears or sew fabrics just for their young one to stylishly wear. Yet, I know that what I make would never compare.
My hair would finally be long, where I want it, and healing properties would be imbedded from the flowers' song. Still, I wouldn't necessarily belong.
I have grown older and wiser, yes, but a part of me would travel through lands of unknown terrain, still, in search of a lamp that would grant me a wish of my own undoing.
Thus, for a reason so complex, I would consequently welcome such regret.
"I want an escape inside a fairytale."
© written.in.emeralds