A fairy people's song of doom and foreboding in their final moment of life, from As Ever Like the Sun & Moon at War.
Our home is ruin'd by this human lass,
and with its burning comes our time to pass;
we've watch'd these ferns since rising from the depths
when war betwixt our kinds was th'only truth
and devils scorch'd the land to take our fruit,
but O, how sick our Mother Earth's become,
ejecting us from Nether Realm to come
toward the surface on her coughing breath
where now we lack our former strength to keep
attackers out, yet demons still are weak
and made to wear the mortal flesh of man
in order to survive these surface lands,
yet still it's one of these who's brought our death,
so trick'd by them despite their crippled form,
for humankind's naive to th'world's lore
which brought us here, with not the time t'address.
YOU ARE READING
Standalone Poetry
PoetryBecause sometimes I feel like it. They'll probably always conform to a format because I'm not great with free verse, so I strongly encourage looking up the rules of any forms you see here and don't understand.
