The Fight for Freedom
I hold three magic rocks, in my hand
Rolling them over and over and over
Leaving this reality behind, far behind
Distracted, I am just a rover.
For I have wandered in a field of fog
I cannot see or feel or know
Where I am going until the air had cleared
And a vast land displayed a great chateau.
Large mushroom like trees grow here and there.
With palms swishing lightly in the lawn,
But in the middle elves stand on guard
A beautiful woman is tied to a pole like a pawn.
I roll the magic rocks and a nasty sound blared.
The elves disappear and I quickly untie the beauty.
We run out into the fog and find a rocky patch.
She is hungry. The rocks yield berries fruity.
Danger lurk above as an eagle soared
She magically got a bow and shot down the bird
Others appear the fugitives must flee. A unicorn appears.
They climb upon the magic horse and spurred.
Now I have only one magic rock: what to do?
I wish to be back in my home and in laughter
We arrive safe and sound. We will be married
And you know what: we live happily ever after.
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