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In Dreamland's dazzling domain, where fairytales unfurl, A youth yonder yearned, with heart that hoped to hurl, Himself into the hinterland, a hero's journey to embark, To chase the chimeras of change, to leave a lasting mark.

Beneath the benevolent beams of the bright, bisque moon, He bundled his belongings, set to leave quite soon, With a satchel of secrets, a sword sharp and keen, And a map of the mind, where wonders had been.

He whispered to the whimpering wind, a wish to wander well, To find the fragrant forests where the fabled creatures dwell, Where dragons draw their dreams in the dusk's deep purple hue, And fairies frolic freely, under skies forever blue.

Through the thicket of thorns, thistles, and thriving trees, He traveled, tireless and true, with the greatest of ease, For in Dreamland's embrace, each step felt like a song, A symphony of solace, where surely he belonged.

He met a maiden there, with eyes that echoed eternity, Her laughter like liquid light, a melody of the free, Together they twirled through time, two souls in sweet tandem, In forests where the foliage formed a verdant diadem.

The alliteration of adventure, an artful, alabaster thread, Wove through their waking moments, in the land where they tread, Each day dawned with discovery, each night nestled in stars, In Dreamland, where destinies danced, beneath celestial scars.

But as with all fairytales, a twist of fate did appear, A villain, vile and vicious, who sought to sow fear, Yet our hero, with hope as his hardy shield, Faced the fiend in a fray, refusing to yield.

With the maiden by his side, they fought the fearsome foe, Their love, a luminous lance, in the land where dreams grow, And as the dawn's early light began to creep, The darkness disintegrated, and from the shadows, they'd leap.

Victorious, they voyaged, back to the realm of the awake, With the wisdom of Dreamland, a treasure they'd take, For in the heart of the hero, a truth had been penned, That the fairytale's finest tales are the ones we befriend.

So let this lay linger, a lullaby for the lost, For even in reality, dreams are a price worth the cost, And to the young, the brave, who still dare to dream big, May you find your own fairytale, in the night's silver rig.
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