Perhaps it is folly on parade,
but the smiling mask must stay on.
I have had enough,
of this soul-crushing sharade.
So I chase the illusions,
a colourful yet fragile dream,
that imbued these stained-glass windows,
with a breath of life.
I would rather take on a world,
filled with dragons, trolls, and dungeons,
sword in hand,
than dance to the tune of depravity that made us thralls.
We are all attending the ball,
as Life itself holds court,
and walts to the tune of the Fiddler’s greed.
I refuse to dance.
When among kings and queens,
self-appointed and crowned,
I raise my glass to the jester,
with sharp wit and a quick tongue.
I would rather be a blacksmith’s apprentice,
forged in the fire of a tough life,
or a scribe whose only treasure is the Word,
than a Prince crowned in arrogance.
We are all slaves in the kingdom of Apathy.
So I do the only thing I know how,
wield a pen as a sword,
and cut the bounderies that bind me to this reality.
Thus I invite you to unshackle your imagination,
step through the painted glass,
and into the dream,
embark upon a quest with me to discover the unseen.
Adventure lies in the mysteries within.