238 posts
  • born_to_write_ 2d


    Life is a cycle of addiction and depression.
    And the only key that we possess is a fairy of forgetfulness.


    ©a stenographer soul

  • aavaniie 2w

    Fairy ‍♂️

    Dear fairy Godmother,
    Please, turn me into a fairy,
    Give me two tiny tiny wings.
    Let me fly so high and slide on the rainbow.
    Let me dance with the fireflies and sleep on milky clouds.
    Let me ride a unicorn and flirt with the butterflies.

  • saya__ 3w


    I've been searched ardently by juveniles,
    Yet the quandom ones have lost faith.
    I am thought to live in dreams,
    Yet I am there to fulfill theirs.
    I am being forgotten by those traitors,
    Saying modern technology is better.
    Well, how can you collate my enchantment
    With those of your imbecile instrument?
    Don't you know how my magic wand,
    Can let go of your gloom?
    Don't you know that my kind
    Doesn't anymore have room?
    We were made to spread love and joy,
    Yet we dole out foy.
    Our end is coming soon,
    Perhaps their words will come true
    As could never exist through.

  • as_sab 3w


    ...and the whole story lies
    from ?!.....to....!?

  • anyelia 4w

    They stood in a clearing in a forest. But it was no forest like Lyza had ever seen. The trees—evergreen-like in shape—appeared to be made of a frosted glass. Vines of black stone twisted up their trunks, their finish so polished they appeared to shine as if covered in a layer of water. Around their base, crystal of pale blue and soft pink poked through the powder snow that covered the ground. The crystals glowed, lighting the crystalline forest with an aethereal air.

    And far above her head, far above the tips of the glass trees, an inky black sky loomed. Stars adorned that expanse. They shone like jewels on display, far brighter than any star in the sky of the realm of humans.

    This was the realm of the Fae. Alien and beautiful. Eerie and cold.

    Lyza stole a glance at her sister, Aery. She stood half a step back and to her right, her shoulders hunched. Her chin was buried up to her downturned lower lip in her burgundy scarf. Her soft brown eyes flicked around the clearing. At her sides, her hands twisted at her brown skirt.

    Lyza caught one of those hands and gave it a gentle squeeze, willing strength through it. It was as much for herself as for her sister. Just as much something to inspire her own confidence as it was to comfort her sister.

    Their guide, a tall man with raven hair laced with silver, had not stopped while the sisters took in their strange surroundings. He, without looking back, continued forward into the glowing forest.

    Lyza took one last look over her shoulder, to the empty Gate behind them. Two pillars of white stone marked the boundaries of where the tear in reality had stood, where the Gate opened. But it was closed now, and there was no sign of the snow filled cave from which they had come. Just more of the glass forest as far as the eye could see.

    There was no going back.

    Whether she wanted to or not, their only option now was to continue and meet the Fairy Queen.

    So, she hurried after the Fae man who had first extended his queen’s invitation. Followed him to a palace of white stone and black glass. It stood on the edge of a cliff, shrouded in dense mist. Towers rose into the star filled sky, surrounding a central dome of glass. White light poured out of that dome, like a beacon in the night, cold and clear. It diffused through the fog and glistened off the black cone roofs of its crowning towers.

    Enormous gates opened for them as they approached. Opened without verbal orders and without any visible hands. Wordlessly, they entered the Palace of Winter.

    They came before a pair of obsidian doors. Only then did their guide stop. The doors were twice his height and each individually were wide enough for three people to walk abreast. Into the stone a great serpent was carved. It snaked its way across both doors, its head adorned in branch-like horns, its maw dressed in flowing whiskers.

    The Fae man hesitated a moment before those doors. For the first time since entering this world he looked back at the sisters behind him, his unnatural silver eyes meeting Lyza’s brown.

    “If you have any wish to leave this realm again,” he said, “Eat nothing from my lady’s hand. Served yourself from her table is fine. But take anything from her hand, her plate, or her glass and you shall never leave.”

    “What?” Lyza asked, but the man had returned his attention to the door before him.

    He put a hand to the black stone, and they glided open before him. He strode out into the chamber, a black wind swirling around him with each step.

    The chamber was a grand reception hall. A throne stood tall upon a raised dais on the other end of the room. A crowd of humanoid figures stood around the edges, their forms slippery like those of flickering flames or sliding shadows. Above them, a glass dome arced into the heavens. The mist curled around the glass panes outside, allowing for a shifting view of the stars far above.

    Their guide bowed low to the figure on the throne, one hand pressed to his chest, the other extended wide to his side.

    “Your Majesty,” he said, “I return with your eagerly awaited guests.”

    Her Majesty, the Winter Queen, stared down from her throne at her subject and her guests. Her eyes—black where a human’s would be white and silver where a human’s might hold color—swept across the sisters.

    She was gorgeous. It wasn’t a subjective beauty. Not a beauty that was dependent on culture or preference. She followed no rules of traditional feminine beauty. No rules of human fashion. But she was gorgeous.

    Gorgeous the way a sunset over the ocean is gorgeous. Beautiful the way glaciers under the aura borealis is beautiful. Like the night sky untarnished by city lights or smoke. Like the silhouette of trees through mist. Like untouched snow under the full moon.

    She wore robes of shimmering silk. The grey fabric caressed her dark skin, the wide sleeves falling over the arms of her throne. Upon her head, a black crown rested upon her flowing white hair, hair that rolled over her shoulders in waves. From either temple, just before the crown, twin horns swept back from her head, like black branches of some ancient tree.

    Their guide rose from his bow, the wind around him settling again. His features had shifted in his bow. As he turned to beckon the sisters forward, his hands had become like a bird’s talons. His hair had transmuted into a plume of bird’s feathers.

    His eyes, however, remained the steadfast silver. Lyza found them strangely encouraging as he waved them forward, even as his face held an expressionless mask.

    Lyza followed their guide into the room, Aery at her heels. She bowed low as their guide had, Aery curtsied at her side.

    “My name is Lyza Fartrell, your Majesty,” Lyza said. She looked up from her bow to her sister, adding, “This is my younger sister, Aery Fartrell.” Lyza kept her eyes respectfully on the floor at the Fairy Queen’s feet even as she rose from her bow. “We thank you for the invitation into your home.”

    The queen rose from her throne. She moved with a grace like water yet as fast as the wind. In a moment she stood before the sisters.

    She was tall, towering over them. Lyza couldn’t help looking up at the Fae who’d so suddenly stepped so close. But the Fairy Queen wasn’t looking at Lyza. No, she was looking directly into Aery’s eyes.

    Her dark hand ran a finger under Aery’s chin. Her dusky lips curled upward in a smile.

    Aery’s body stiffened, her eyes wide. But she seemed unable to move. Lyza wanted to help. Even if it would be disrespectful, she wanted to pull her dear sister away from the Fae monarch. But her body ignored the impulse.

    The sisters, perhaps the whole court, found themselves frozen in place as the Queen of Winter regarded the gentle face in her hand.

    “What do you say,” the queen said, her voice simultaneously as commanding as thunder and as soft as fresh snow, “To being mine?”

    #fantasy #fiction #magic #shortstory #story #short #magic #fairy #winter #love #family #snow #royalty #night #WintersGate

    Art credit: https://unsplash.com/@aaronburden

    Read More

    Winter's Palace

    This was the realm of the Fae.
    Alien and beautiful.
    Eerie and cold.
    There was no going back.
    Whether she wanted to or not, their only option now was to continue and meet the Fairy Queen.

  • a_poesy_dream 8w


    If love is there, If he finds excuse
    It finds a way Set him free and
    If there is no way, Let him go.
    It makes its own Breath the air
    Excuses live in hatred You will feel light
    If he takes excuse For setting free is better
    He hates you Than bleeding yourself
    If he doesn't come to build Or begging for love.
    He lies you ©subhashmin
    He is not a toy
    He can't be tied with strings
    Even if u made the strings
    With Your own blood and heart

  • a_poesy_dream 8w


    "Child, you have such a soft heart
    This world is a poisonous cart
    It's just so weak that u can't live
    You need to be strong to survive".
    "Girl, He just left you without notice
    For him you were just a cake peice
    Deserted lover now hold this willow
    He left you after talks from pillow".
    Hearing these my heartbeats increase
    Yes, I have a heart as soft as cheese
    And Yes it's the reason I can't be broken
    God's divine presence in it can't be shaken

  • anyelia 8w


    She lay on the forest floor letting the sun's light dance through the foliage and onto her face. She held one hand up, palm outstretched, half blocking the sun from her eyes, half staring at the gold band around her ring finger. She sighed and dropped her hand to her side, running her hand through her long, brunet hair sprawled around her.

    Her parents would be wondering where she'd disappeared to. And so, would he.

    She turned her head to look at the ring again. Such a little thing, this coil of gold. And so much more than a girl like her should have ever hoped for.

    She was a peasant girl, daughter of farmers. He was the lord's son. It had been chance that the two had met as children. His desire to see more of the world than the lord's manor the only reason they continued to meet. At the time, their friendship had been a kind of magic.

    Half her friends had told her not to get too attached to him, she was just a curiosity to the noble born boy. She'd never be more than maid or mistress. The other half urged her to hold on at all cost, make him take her as lady of the manor. Give him the heirs he'd need.

    She'd never paid any of them much mind, though, if she was honest. She'd always been happier just talking with him, happier running though the fields with him. Happier exploring the forests. Happier dreaming of distant lands together.

    But all things came to an end eventually. His father had sent him to the capital to become a knight. She'd gone to the manor's gate to see him off. To wish him luck.

    He'd been waiting.

    "Wait for me," he had said to her. "I'll be back before you know it."

    "What?" she'd called after him, as he was dragged into the carriage and shipped away.

    "I love you!" he'd called back to her as they drove him away.

    Half her friends had congratulated her, saying she'd done it, she'd changed her fate. She'd be a peasant no more. Half her friends told her to be realistic, that'd he would forget all about her in the face of the noble ladies of the capital. That she shouldn't keep her hopes up for his return.

    But she didn't know what to do about any of that. None of these futures were hers. Nothing she did could alter the course. And this luck her friends seemed to think she'd found? She wasn't sure she wanted it.

    They'd exchanged letters while he was gone. He told her of his studies and swordplay, she'd write him of the weather and the land. Both wrote of missing the other, he of her touch and her face, she of his voice and the trouble they had so often found together. In each, he professed to loving her. And in each, she found herself questioning her own heart.

    Did it beat for him? She looked forward to the day he came back, but not for the things her friends whispered about in the dark of night. Her lips against his? His hand on her waist? Her head on his shoulder? She couldn't find the appeal.

    So, the years had passed. Every year, another of her friends married another of the village men. Every year her family teased her for waiting for the young lord. Every year, she explored deeper sections of the forest.

    It was these adventures she most often wrote him about. The animals she saw, the ones she hunted and the ones which escaped. The herbs she discovered, the berries she picked. The promise that she'd show him the secret places she's found and that the two of them would go even further together when he returned.

    This place she lay was one such place she'd found. It was a quiet spot, unusually bright and peaceful for being so deep in the forest and so far from the village. Here the sunlight trickled down to the soft forest floor, bathing the earth in dappled sunlight. Here, even in the depths of winter, a circle of warm earth untouched by snow could be found. In the spring and summer, she found a ring of flowers pink and then yellow. In fall, the ring of flowers was replaced with a perfect circle of mushrooms. It was her very own Fairy Ring.

    Here she dreamed of distant places and foreign forests. Of endless sands and endless waters. Of lakes reflecting stars and mountains holding up the very skies. Here she dreamed of fairies and magic.

    "You wish to leave this place?" the fairy in her dream often asked her.

    She always nodded.

    The fairy, her hair dark like the night, her eyes silver like starlight, always frowned. "Then why don't you?"

    "And where would I go?" she always asked.

    The fairy always waved her hand, letting the many strange landscapes spin around them. "Anywhere? Everywhere?"

    She always laughed. A peasant girl couldn't travel on her own. How far could she really go? The world was dangerous, her mother never missed a chance to stress this. Her friends were always quick to remind her. But what would a fairy know of the dangers for a simple human girl alone in the greater world.

    She took the ring off, holding it in her palm. It was heavy. For such a little thing, how could it be so heavy?

    She hadn't expected him to really come back, she realized. His return was always something for tomorrow. Always something to worry about another day. Her answer was always something she could puzzle out tomorrow. And when the day came, she hadn't been ready.

    He'd returned that morning, riding into town atop a white stallion. The moment he saw her he hopped down, and from his pocket pulled this very ring.

    "Marry me," he'd said.

    And what could she say to her friend, her lord, standing there in the town square? Uncertain, but unable to answer any other way, she had agreed. He slid the ring onto her finger, smiling.

    "Thank you for waiting," he'd whispered in her ear.

    How could she explain she hadn't so much been waiting for him as using him as an excuse to turn down any others that tried to approach her? How could she explain she would rather the two of them run right out into the woods than hurry back to the mansion to inform his parents? How did she explain she didn't want to be a noble lady? Didn't want to be tied to this land? Explain, that although she liked him, she didn't love him? How did she explain "No" to him?

    It'd be so easy, if only she loved him. To become his lady? To raise his heirs? To live in that life of luxury? She understood if she told anyone she didn't want that they'd call her insane.

    And it would be so easy, if only she hated him. To call him a tyrant forcing himself on one of his servants. It would be an uphill battle to fight for her freedom, but she would do it. If only she hated him.

    But she didn't. She wanted him to be happy. Even after all this time, he was still her most dear friend.

    She could see the two of them together. She wouldn't be the first bride not in love with her groom. She wouldn't be the first to marry for status or for the lifestyle that would follow. And he would be happy.

    And maybe she would be too.

    Certainly, she wouldn't be unhappy. He'd dress her in silks. He'd serve her fine foods for every meal. He'd give her servants to ensure she wanted for nothing. She'd never starve, never be cold in the winter. And she'd never see another horizon. Never see the world beyond this forest.

    She'd even agreed already. She wouldn't have to lift a finger and it would all happen.

    The ring sat motionless in her hand. She could stand and toss it. In the dark of the forest, she'd never find it in a million years. She could run, just keep running through the forest, until she found herself in another town, then another. She could disappear and never see him again. She could see the world, just by running from one town to the next. And it would break his heart.

    She didn't want to run, but she didn't want to stay either.

    "Then don't." The fairy sat beside her again, her face tilted up toward the sun. "Don't run, but don't stay."

    She snorted. "It's not quite that simple."

    "Why?" the fairy asked.

    Why? Well, because...


    She stood on the dock, a many masted ship towering behind her. The sea breeze pulled her greying hair from its thinning braid. She looked up to the sky, placing a hand over her face to shield her eyes. An old tarnished ring glinted in the sun as she moved. How many years had it been since she'd been back? She wasn't sure now.

    His last letter said he had grandkids now. He'd told her of the land, and the weather. He talked happily of the unchanging people and the quiet village.

    She patted her breast pocket, where she still kept that letter, and thought of her own response. How she'd described the strange lands she'd seen, the ever-shifting horizon.

    Both had spoken of missing the other, she of the sound of his voice, he of the trouble he always seemed to find himself in when they were together.

    Already she was drafting her next letter to him, her dearest friend. 


  • a_poesy_dream 8w

    ♥︎Ohh Dear-2♥︎

    I opened my eyes and I was in his cell
    It was not beautiful, but I heard a knell
    I went to hug the Eagle but stopped by queen
    The dragon queen vilian with her eyes green
    She cut through my beating heart
    Ohh I was struck with the Eagle's dart
    Ohh dear he was a bait for my death
    Eagle tearfully gave my friends wreath.

  • a_poesy_dream 8w

    ♥︎Ohh Dear-1♥︎

    It was a sunny morning day
    I was bright light and gay
    I looked into the sky so blue
    I couldn't stop my eyes to glue
    An Eagle came into my home
    He saw me smile and reflected some
    We talked with tweets and danced
    In our memory, in our imaginations.

  • mahima_sangwan 9w

    I cursed you with all the strength of a witch in the day!
    I cried for you like a fallen fairy in the night!

  • anyelia 10w

    Winter's Gate

    She stepped into the cavern, her foot sinking into the layer of frost which covered the entire floor. Stalagmites and stalactites of ice built glistening pillars around the room. Crystals frozen deep within the ice walls glowed pale blue and pink, illuminating the cavern of ice.

    She walked slowly, torch in one hand, a blade of cold steel in the other. Behind her another young woman, her younger sister, followed close behind, a second torch held in a white knuckled grip.

    “Will we really be safe here?” she asked, taking another step toward her older sister.

    “The lord's men won't follow us here,” she reassured her younger sister. She didn't look back, though. Instead, her eyes scanned the walls for movement or magic.

    “Because they are scared of frost elementals?”

    “Well… I mean…” What could she say? If the rumors were true, this was the home of frost elementals and lesser spirits of winter. It would be a lie to say the soldiers of the castle didn't give this area wide berth just to avoid this cave of ice and monsters. “No one has seen a frost elemental in nearly ten years.”

    “Hasn't it been ten years since the last time the lord tried to have this area developed?”

    She sighed. “That may be true.”

    It was, in fact true. Ten years ago, the lord, the man whose men now hunted them, had wanted this region cleared and a manor built. Before the first tree had even been felled, frost elementals, primordial spirits of ice, had rolled out from this cave as a freezing mist. The mist had slipped into the lungs of the workers before any realized. Over half the work force suffocated, their lungs frozen solid, before any of the overseers realized what had happened. As panic spread through the remaining workers, the spirits manifested as men, eight feet tall, with clubs of ice for arms. They smashed any too slow to run away into frosty, bloody piles.

    But, recounting this story to her already trembling younger sister was hardly good for moral. Besides, if the lord got them, they would hardly fair better. The possible death and dismemberment of the cave was far better than certain demise they faced if any of their hunters caught them.

    “We just need to hide here until nightfall,” she added. “His men won't go out in the forest after dark. We can slip away then.”

    Her sister nodded meekly, but she could tell she wanted to point out why the soldiers wouldn't enter the forest at night. Whether her sister was thinking of the direwolves or the snow drakes, she couldn't say. She supposed it didn't matter. Both could kill them with crushing ease.

    They walked deeper into the cave, the temperature dropping with each step, the cold seeping through their winter coats, sinking down to their bones. Their torches flickered, as if the cold were trying to put out the flames itself.

    “Do you think it's true?” her sister asked, her breath coming out in a cloud of moisture, freezing to her scarf around her chin almost immediately. “Do you think this is actually the gate to the Winter Court?”

    She frowned. “The home of all winter Fae?” She shook her head. “That's just a story to scare small children into behaving during the winter.”

    “So, you don't think undines will pull us into the ice or redcaps will come and steal our fires?”

    She almost laughed. “Have you ever really heard of that kind of thing happening?”

    Frost elementals were one thing. Those undoubtedly lurked in the cold places of the world. But true Fae? They had left this world for the wells of magic, if they had ever existed at all.

    “But, didn't the villagers always say—”

    “The villagers said all kinds of things. That doesn't make it true.” That came out sharper than she had meant. It was just, they had enough problems as it was, without borrowing more from old stories. “We can stop here. I doubt the lord's men will come this far.”

    Her sister nodded without further complaint.

    In truth, she didn't like that there was unexplored regions ahead of them still. But the cave had ever so slowly been angling down and she was unwilling to travel deeper. It wasn't unknown for caves like these to have pockets of unbreathable air or to suddenly collapse, and she wasn't going to risk it. Additionally, she couldn't argue that the air wasn't getting colder and colder the deeper they got, and she found it unsettling to say the least.


    “Something moved,” her sister said. It had probably been about an hour since they had stopped. “Over there.” She pointed to the depths of the cave, her arm trembling.

    “What was it?” she asked.

    Her sister shook her head. “I don't know. A shadow, maybe? Tall enough to be a person?”

    She frowned, peering down the hall of ice. The crystals in the walls lit the way enough she could see all the way to the next bend, but also enough that the pillars and icicles cast unusual shadows over the walls and floors.

    “You're sure?” she asked.

    Her sister nodded.

    “Alright,” she said, making her decision. “Stay here. I'll go check.”

    Her sister nodded again.

    She walked down the corridor slowly, her eyes scanning each shadowed alcove. The worst thing would be if something managed to slip past her and get between herself and her sister.

    She rounded a corner and immediately leapt back behind it. Ahead of her a snow drake lay sprawled across the frosty stone, its breath forming a small mound of snow before it's slightly open maw. It was asleep, and appeared to have been for quite a while. If anything had passed this way it was quiet enough to have slipped past this monster without waking it.

    She turned to return to her sister, shaking her head. Whatever her sister might have seen, she wasn't following it past the lesser dragon.

    A shrill scream echoed down the corridor from back where she had left her sister.

    She sprinted back, her feet skidding and sliding on the icy ground.

    She skid to a halt as she entered the chamber she'd left her sister.

    Her sister stood against the wall, her eyes wide, her body frozen in fear. On the other side of the room, standing in the other entrance, stood a dark-haired man with skin like ice. Or, rather, he looked like a man. He looked like a man the way a dragon looks like a drake. The shape was the same, but he held an air of magic and majesty the other could never compare to.

    She stepped between her sister and the stranger, her sword leveled before her.

    “Who is he?” she hissed behind her to her sister.

    “He just appeared there,” she whispered back.

    “From around the corner?”

    “No. One minute there was no one, the next he was standing there.”



    He wasn't one of the lord's men, she could say that much. He didn't have the lord's insignia over his heart. And judging from the silver hilt on the sword at his waist, it was too fine a piece to have been provided by that cheapskate lord to a lackey.

    “Who are you?” she asked finally, not lowering her sword an inch.

    His dress was odd too for one in the wilderness. He wore no coat, despite the freezing temperatures of the caves. Just a long-sleeved tunic of a fine black fabric, embroidered in silver around the cuffs. It looked more like court dress than clothes of a traveler.

    He raised an eyebrow at the question. “Do guests no longer declare themselves at their hosts doors in the mortal world?”

    “Guests?” she asked.

    “You've come to my lady's gate,” the man said. “What else does that make you?”

    “Your-your lady's gate?”

    The man nodded. “It's been many years since we've last had mortal guests. My lady is eager to see humans again.”

    “And your lady, she's…”

    “The Queen of Winter, naturally,” the man said. “Who else would rule the lands beyond Winter's Gate?”

    “Then, you, you're…”

    “Me? Just the gatekeeper.”


    “Hm? Oh, yes, naturally.”

    Her sister grabbed her coat sleeve, pulling herself close to her body.

    “We-we didn't know this was the entrance to your home,” she said. “Please forgive our rudeness.”

    The man frowned. “Then you did not come to be my lady's guests?”

    She shook her head. “I'm afraid we did not come prepared to see one as noble as she.”

    “Shame,” the man said, with a shrug. “Then I must ask you vacate the premises. My lady will be so disappointed.”

    “Wait!” She had spoken without thinking, but it certainly wasn't night yet. The lord's men would still be waiting for the two of them. And it was certain death if they were caught by them. They could not go back out there.

    Yet the other option was to meet the Queen of Winter, the cruel mistress of all Fae? To go with this man was probably death as well.

    What choices.

    “If her majesty would really like to see us, even as unprepared as we are, who are we, humble travelers, to deny her?”

    “What are you doing?” her sister hissed behind her.

    The man's face lit up immediately. “Oh? Good! Most excellent. Come, follow me. Let us prepare you for the queen!”

    She took her sister's hand, falling in behind the fae man. Maybe there was no hope of ever escaping the Fae. Maybe this too would mean their death. But again, even probable death was better than what waited for them outside.

    Better or worse, she would take her chances.


  • taekook_maknae 11w

    Life is measured not with years
    but the footprint that she leaves
    in other people's lifes nd hearts..

    nd it hasnt been many years we met
    bt still she hd a great role in my story
    nd she's still blooming in my heart

    for tdy one year passed
    nd it's the beginning of another
    amazing year
    may this year too be filled wth
    happiness ...stay blessed dea

    u r forever young����

    wishing u many many happy returns of the
    day my dear jk❤��

    ❤ ❤❤❤ ❤ ❤ ❤❤❤ ❤ ❤
    ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤___ ❤ ❤
    ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤''''''''''''' ❤ ❤
    ❤❤❤ ❤❤❤ ❤ ❤❤❤ ❤❤❤




    Read More

    Happy bdy my fairyy

  • an_overthinker 12w

    It was just a quote that " love is in the air "
    Now i feel it everytime with her smile , her eyes gazing me and her swinging hair ,
    She is the only thing where it all begins and where my world ends,
    She is just a simple childhood fairy tale against all these new trends..


  • splendiferous 12w

    Cladded in jewelry of innocence
    And glasses that visualise the world as insouciance
    Dances by the clock to strike midnight
    Silence, arrives as the moon materialize
    She waits and she waits for the arrival
    Of the fairies who could only be seen at night
    Oh! Behold darling, it's a magical sight.
    For fairies can only be seen during the darkest hours for that is when they shine.

    Away from the world, away from the scrutiny
    Like stars, their semblance glow incandescently.

    But dear young Molly has a question for them today,
    She will get the answers she knows for that is what she vows.
    She is a child with heart of vigour and core so stubborn
    She won't let her fairy friends live like this anymore.
    Thus she waits, below the ceiling of the hushed house
    Silence drooping and cannot be doused
    Vestiges of sleep long gone, forgotten was bedtime
    As she waits and waits for the clock to strike midnight.

    Alas, they arrive, blinding light so bright
    With smiles so lavishing, lighting the midnight
    Their voice a singsong of sweet, sweet melody
    "Oh did we make you wait today, dear Molly?"
    Young Molly, shook her head and then her words betide

    "Dear faires, dear fairies why do you always hide?"
    Taken aback by the query but they still answer young Molly,
    "You won't understand, dear child. The world is not so benign."
    "Dear fairies, dear fairies, but you are magic."
    "Every difference in this world is visioned as tragic."
    "Your beauty transcends the world!"
    "This world doesn't have a place for someone who goes beyond it."
    "Oh! can't they see your goodness? Are they blind?"

    "They can see, but they don't want to admit their find."

    "But dear faires you make everything so bright!"

    "But my child, the world prefer everything black and white."

    "I don't understand the world."

    "Dear child, neither do we."

    Saddened by the answers, Molly starts to cry
    Seeing their young friend like this the fairies sigh and tells a lie

    "Oh dear, don't you cry - for we are more than happy to have you by our side. For nothing is there from you, that we hide."

    Lies and lies for they know it will betide
    But they do not say for they don't want her to cry
    They hide away, that Molly will sway
    One day like everyone she will look away.

    Too many words? -_- Iknowalotofyouwontlikethis// but it's been a long time - howdy?

    Eitherways, if you all ACTUALLY read this - i want you to tell me what YOU interpret from this story - (like you don't have to but if you do then well- you will make me happy.)


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    Molly and her fairies

    Cladded in jewelry of innocence
    And glasses that visualise the world as insouciance
    Dances by the clock to strike midnight
    Silence, arrives as the moon materialize
    She waits and she waits for the arrival
    Of the fairies who could only be seen at night
    Oh! Behold darling, it's a magical sight.
    For fairies can only be seen during the darkest hours for that is when they shine.

  • deepikamahato 14w

    Even in a fairy tale
    Not every fairy is kind.

  • lovenotes_from_carolyn 15w

    I'm entering this older piece for a challenge on my other account. ��‍♀️

    by Carolyn Glackin
    She had a mind for whimsical things
    Happy-go-lucky, carefree, with no strings
    A joie de vivre junkie, always after a fix
    With a whole lot of silly thrown into the mix
    She had nary a care, save but for a few
    Some minor pet peeves, but just one or two
    With an excess of nonsense
    She was quite prone to laughter
    She lived in the moment
    From now 'til hereafter
    Growing up was unheard of
    She just wouldn't dare!
    Though she gave the appearance
    Through her savoir faire
    With the heart of a child and the soul of a fairy
    She managed quite well and was rarely contrary
    Buoyant and bubbly, bouncily bright
    She thrived on elation, mirth, and delight
    Her mind like a playground where creativity soared
    Imagination ran wild and she never grew bored
    She had a penchant for goodies and sweets
    Chocolate confections and all sorts of treats
    Cookies and pies and baked goods galore
    Just a taste here and there
    She needn't much more
    She was rather thick skinned, not easily hurt
    When faced with unkindness she was civil and curt
    A practical sort, she was not one to dwell
    She moved on in peace, and wished one and all well
    Any hurts she might cause were never intended
    And she believed in the thought
    That all could be mended
    She wouldn't play favorites, take sides or lay blame
    A believer in fairness, regarding all just the same
    No more and no lesser, none better or worse
    Some thought it a blessing, some thought it a curse
    In her mind at all times
    This thought she would see:
    We are all branches, upon the same tree
    If we're hurting the one, we're hurting the other
    Thus we're hurting ourselves
    And each sister and brother
    Clearly, that's madness, and perhaps quite insane
    So she focused on peace, to minimize pain
    She cut no one out, even if they did part
    She carried them with her, for all time, in her heart
    Because life is so fleeting
    And it's precious and true
    Petty fights just aren't worth it
    And this, she well knew
    So she forged on ahead, with hope in her heart
    Each day a true blessing, and a brand new fresh start.
    Copyright Carolyn Glackin 12/20/2018

    *Art credit: One of my very favorite fairy paintings by Howard David Johnson. ��‍♀️

    #challenge #dailychallenge #cees_fff_chall #food #fairy #fairies #joiedevivre #shenanigans #tomfoolery #mischief #fun #silliness #zaniness #insanity

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  • onelovenikhil 18w

    Growing up teaches me to “SUCK IT UP” because eventually, #reality sets in and we all know that #love isn’t gonna be as simple as just two people being #together and having to live happily ever after. All these love #movies and #fairy tales we grew up watching are not real. Relationship #goals aren’t true, people only choose to show you what they want you to see, you never know what goes on behind cause no #relationship is as #flawless as it seems.

    @mirakeeworld @mirakee @whitewings @writersnetwork @whisperedthoughts
    #ttt #potd #mirakee

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    With love, comes pain and sometimes you just have to find that one-person worth hurting for.

  • errorist28 19w

    If we end up together we'll make a lovely story,
    If not then fairy tales still exist, huh. ;)

  • midhuna 116w


    He is like a sylph
    Swirling across me incessantly
    Caressing my hair
    Sometimes pulling it with naughtiness
    I could feel his presence
    I could sense his fragrance
    I could feel him following me
    Trying to hold my hand
    His intense desire to canoodle me
    His candour behaviour
    Made me fall for him
    His warmth is my codeine
    To which I'm addicted
    Blowing cool breeze across my neck
    Making me freeze and
    Asking me to wait for his warmth.