literature

Identity

Deviation Actions

Published: Mar 24, 2011

449 Views

Literature Text

I close my eyes, count to ten,
And find myself in a world of pretend.
Far away from worlds I see
I dance through a forest where I can simply be.

A princess caught by an evil spell,
Trapped in a curse to none she can tell.
Still she fights back with all her might
Refuses she cannot win this fight.
Her heart is golden, her spirit pure
Until she is free, she will endure.

A sorceress clever, mighty and strong,
She enchants those around her with her song.
Not good, nor evil, somewhere in between
She wants, quite simply, to be Queen.
Loved by all, revered by them too
Finally seen as a goddess true.

A warrior maiden, dagger in hand,
Fights always onward, protecting the land.
Faith in her King, faith in her kin
She will never let fear win.
Sword beats on sword, let arrows fly!
“For Zangard we fight! For Zangard we die!”

A regular girl with a daring mind
Starts on a journey to find
Rules to be broken, fights to be won,
Best adrenaline rush under the sun.
Maybe one boy who can match her stride,
Whom she can show off with pride.

So many stories, so much to do,
But how do I know which story is true?
They are all true and all part of me.
It’s up to my magic which one I will be.

Woot! Another poem. Yeah, it's still not great but it's what I have hahahaha.

Plus, this poem actually has a story behind it. A few years ago, my Grandfather was still alive and owned a farm in norther Pennsylvania where my mom grew up and I spent every summer. It was a huge farm, well huge for a child, around 100 acres. A lot of the farm was woods and my cousins and I were allowed to play wherever we wanted so long as my older sister was with us and we didn't cross the road to the rest of the farm.

We would dress in old clothes from when my Grandmother was a little girl and wove stories or adventure and magic. It was like living in a fairy tale and those long summer days of making flower chains and having daring sword fights were the best part of my childhood.

My grandfather died three years ago and my uncle lives on the farm with his new wife. They have changed a lot about the house and I don't get to go up to the farm that often and I really started missing it so I was inspired to write this poem. I hope it captures my love for this place.