The Stark
I float over a hidden empire.
It looks sad, and dark.
Unhappy, i float higher, and higher.
Then suddenly, there appears a stark.
It is brilliant, and glowing white.
It is flying with me, by my side.
It looks glorious, in all its might!
It says, "fallow me, Il be your guide."
"You can talk?", I ask in return.
"Don't speek, just fallow.", says he.
I don't know yet, but theres much to learn.
So I ask, "Where are we?".
He will not reply, did he not hear?
He just looks at me, with a grin.
Now we are close, and the city is clear.
We get closer, and closer, as I fallow him.
"Here we are", he says, grabbing my hand.
This is where I live, and not only that,
It is a great and magical land.
That which is ruled by giants, tall and fat".
"But my fellow stark," ask I,
"where is this place?"
He says, "A land where time passes by,
at a very slow pace."
We walk through the door and to my dismay,
There lies my room, not a magic land.
"I don't see a city, of that which you say!
It's just my room, I don't understand."
I turn around, and the stark is gone.
"What's happened?" I ask myself.
I look out the window, it's nearly dawn.
That's when I notice, a flash on my shelf.
There sits a little wooden stark,
looking tall and happy with glory.
Can this little figure, there in the dark,
hold truth to my wonderful story?
9/10/09
Copyright © Ross Greenlee | Year Posted 2009
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