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Adam Robinson Jan 2018
Take the halos from our heads;
Grabbed hold of the burden;
Placed them in our eyes and saw;
That pretty face in pain;
& caught our small souls - so raw,
I could even feel you again.

We needed to set you free;
From angels eyes aglow;
So you are not alone;
But our nature hides from view;
This twilight dream has hailstone,
& battered my heart so blue.

If heaven ever took heed;
from our grey creatures fey;
It would know of fairer things;
& not slay 'twisted' love;
You claw at your doll's heart-strings,
But fawn over the silk glove.
You reach into yourselves,
and find no magic dove.
But there is a answer,
to calm your weathered friends,
Creep into the old stories,
let them be known onto you,
greet them like old siblings,
and they will not smother you.
They lost no war in clouds,
and seek and look with no frowns,
they carry themselves with pride,
not banished or forced to hide,
Listen to their song,
Protect their corroding land,
Look at them softly,
and hold onto their immortal hand.
If iron modernity is too much,
In its boil, steam and hiss,
Listen and know only this -
For the faeries hold more wisdom,
than the banker's unkind system.
Let The Melody Shine
Journey of Days Oct 2017
faeries are beautiful
but wicked creatures
their craft and skill
beguiles and deceives
much like your hand and tongue
well practiced with lies
wrapped in the finest silk and embroidered with gold thread
ethereal in this  poorly lit world
where identity is fluid
and man bargains for his soul
trading it for winged creatures
that offer nothing but sparkling dust
and an immortal hangover
we have lost the plot
sold it to the highest bidder
and gambled our souls
in a land of faeries

I have no explanation for just happened
Parker Sep 2017
crushed faeries transformed into glitter
giant dragons tears leaving bitter
tastes on her tongue, like a blackberry
every delicate wing of each faery
fluttering across her cheek
like butterfly kisses of a lover
giant scarred eyes closely watching one another
hearts riddled with marks of the past
long, torn scars meant to last
unicorn horn dust erasing the memories
little bonsai tree, only seventeen
her emerald jewel eyes sparkling with a fire
fueled by her lover, a self proclaimed liar
a path forged by the dragons breath
where she decided she had enough
glitter sprinkling her long-coming note
sparkling tears that fell as she wrote
"this is for my unrequited love,
this is me rising above,
goodbye my life, my world, my lover
goodbye to those that hurt me...
like my brother and mother
thank you for the opportunity but I just don't belong here
I belong with the faeries of my dreams and the deers"
P.M. 9/10/17
Vivian g May 2017
Sipping on swamp water
Chewing on moss
The kelpies weep when she's away
Journey of Days May 2017
oh to believe in faeries
the tales they spin
delicately crafted from whimsy in a firelight dream state
smudging history across pages that age as soon as the ink dries
making light of fallen natures
embedding them in predictable formats
mining the torment of dark minds
laughing at torture
giving deviance form
is this your literary influence
the study in deceit upon which you model
threats are now negotiations
violence has morphed into a minor disagreement
trashing a life is a misunderstanding
in keeping with the theme, that wart on your nose
no, it is bigger than you think
and the carbuncles
still obvious by candlelight
and people will notice

for when people rewrite history over time and genuinely expect that nobody will notice the warts and carbuncles that decorate their faces
elizabeth Mar 2017
My paper crown has burned.
My wings have been ripped away.
My faerie godmothers are not real,
Neither is the court of Fae.
So while I sit and wait
For a darling prince to come,
I may as well remember
That there isn't going to be one.
March 21, 2017.
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