A Fairy Tale
In a land, far away, once upon a time
An ancient place, deep in mystical forests
There lived a sickly old man
The years had passed and he was but an empty shell
Even he had no memories of who he used to be
But now, in the forest, he breathed his bitterness
A small barren one room cabin
His only possession, his grumpy voice
The town, further down the hill
Was to be his only detested outing
Each month the voyage, a barter for rations
Chopped wood, for his meager means
The children would taunt and tease
This smelly aberration to their playful days
And toss pebbles and stones
What do you mutter, you ragged old man?
He pictured them in a pot of stew
Yet no smile would he spend even on this thought
And off he went back up the hill, his bitterness too
The echo’s of laughing children, now but a distant taunt
He grew older, as did his bitterness
Year by year, and like a curse he lived
Certainly not of his choosing
Almost not hearing the village sneers
One day the men elders where called away
Kings declare wars, but it’s the villagers who do battle
Times became dark, who lived who died, no one was sure
The village children wept for their fathers
The old mans monthly pilgrimage to the village
Was met with sad infant stares
His mutterings now no concern of theirs
When off in the distance, beating drums and horses hooves
Soldiers of terror, pillaged and burned
The fires and haze, arrows and swords
The villagers ran in into the forests deep
Save for some of the children, confused and dazed
The old man stood in the midst of it all
And fearing nothing, his soul long dead
The children behind him, with fear and dread
He lifted a fallen sword and felled a horsemen
The a second, a third, in vengeance did come
And he felled them too, no fear in his eyes
The others retreated, their loot in tow
Only the angel of death, left with the wind
The old man, fell to the ground
Surrounded by children, staring in shock
They carried him home, his frown, and all
And stoked his fire, and laid him to rest
When he woke the next morning
All the children were there
With smiles, be dammed, what did he care?
They chattered and praises his heroic acts
They truly saw, the beauty hidden so deep
This old man saved them, his bravery noble
His silence, and rudeness, they ignored it all
And a little boy, with wonder, said thank you grumpy
Well, against his will, a smile did appear
This little one, taken so, thought him so dear
And day by day, the children returned
And he told them stories he had long forgotten
In the forest, up in the trees
Two angel fairies, where singing in the breeze
Looking down and over the cabin
And filled with joy, for an old soul was revived
The old man, spent his days, telling stories and teaching
The children learned the ways of their past
And the old man, who once was dead
Now knew the meaning of all life ahead
The village rebuilt and returned to routine
Honored the old man, once unwashed and unseen
The children grew older, the old man passed on
And now he sits in a tree and sings in the breeze
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2013
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