Tell me little one
of the stories on your tongue,
Where the waning moon shines,
brighter than the morning sun.
And the fierce fire breathing dragon,
a lullaby softly hums.

Tell me little one
of the stories in your heart,
Where the glorified hero
was no more than a fool.
And the gentlest being
was an old weathered ghoul.

Tell me little one
of the stories in your soul
Where the conquering princess,
was far from distress
And of the villain who
was graced with righteousness.

For your walls too, have stories
but pay no head their lies.
Open wide, little one
And see the world with your own two eyes.