.

Slow and steady,

Keep the course,

Maties ready

No remorse!

The ocean’s live,

The wind cold,

We are alive,

Our souls bold,

Let us all strive

To live old,

Be like the hive

– Dark and gold! –

Both in color

And in heart,

Let not dolor

Drive apart

This courageous

Band of thieves,

Of outrageous,

Many grieves,

Nor turn us mad,

Old and new

Or good or bad,

For the crew!

.

.

I am running and running as fast as I can,

As swift as the wind, quick as lightning, however

From something or towards somewhere I cannot say;

Running all my muscles sore and my breath away,

An urge to go fast, irrepressible fever,

Possesses me, moving my feet without a plan,

Running in the night along the wide river bank

Until my heart goes silent or my mind goes blank.

.

.

A gaze of steel or a smile of red

Could either kill you completely dead

Or render you purely powerless

Without a worry, a heart lawless.

One would not even have time to sense

The quick and deadly poisonous sting,

Would in no time – no need of pretense –

Fall, consumed by sleep everlasting;

Innocent snow, lying in the wood,

White as shadow fallen from above,

Waiting for a prince, a Robin Hood,

To rescue with a kiss of true love.

Trapped in your own mind, castle of glass,

Able to see, to hear and to feel

The world shift around you and time pass

But unable to move, head to heel,

How could you keep your heart ever pure

And with courage fight off its darkness

With knowledge that there is not a cure

Save a fairy tale void of fairness?

So in these forests of old stories

Where the big bad wolf meets little girls

And where young heroes claim past glories,

Reader, hear how the story unfurls.

.

.

There needs to be an awakening,

A flashback, back to the beginning,

We need to understand the power

We hold over the world, not cower

Before our responsibilities,

Take measure of our abilities

To break the night into a new day,

Onto a better future pave way!

So to all those who are listening

Hear me speak, carefully heed my word:

No dark demon but us holds the sword,

What around our throat is tightening

Is nothing but our own bloody hand

No more listening to our command;

Open your eyes, try feel the change

Within winds around and earth below,

Salvation is not yet out of range

Were we to unite no more shallow.

.

.

A man, a child and a dog

Came one day out of the fog,

The child was sick, the man tired

And the lone dog had been hired

To protect along the path

The three of them from her wrath;

They had gone against the will

Of the Red Witch and the Still,

They would not bow to the time

When had come the thirteenth chime,

A curse had been thrown upon

Them: to wander the Nightland

Until came a bright new dawn,

A path that would never end.

The child however cried not

Even a single small tear

For he had so long forgot

What it was to feel the fear,

The man walked on despite wear

The small burden he could bear

For however strong the tide

He knew the dog by his side.

I know not how long they went

All three of them tired and spent

Nor even if they have yet

Reached their goal, journey’s end met;

But sometimes during the night

When upon me is the sight

Of this small path made of dirt

Whence they came and then went back

In the deadest of night black,

I think back to faces hurt,

Limbs so weak, minds exhausted,

And wish to have them hosted…

.

.

The Night Enchantor they called him,

His fame was akin to the reaper grim

For with a single word he would

Burn down empires as if made of wood.

He was taken down from his throne

One fateful night and never seen again

Destroyed was all that he had gained,

Power, wealth… He was left with flesh and bone,

As the shadow of a shadow,

Nothing remained of his powerful glow.

Though gone from this world he was not,

Only forgotten, locked away to rot;

Many a year has passed since then

And so much has changed in the world of men

But in his heart never wavered

The deepest of desire, oh sweet-flavored!

Past glory he would again claim

And old enemies would perish in flame…

.

.

In that pitch black emptiness

Lies nothing else but time

And the space to achieve

The dreams of many a man

Like a life-size game of chess,

Strategy made sublime

By the power to weave

Even death in your great plan

With absolute steadiness,

For one mistake and chime

The bells then come retrieve

The otherworldly doorman

Your soul from all this madness,

The basic paradigm

In which to see, believe

The vastness of all that span.

.

.

Somewhere out there awaits an elephant

By a dried out fountain near a red tree

Calling for your return to a land, free,

Not tall or proud or even triumphant,

Just waiting patiently with open arms

To welcome with joy a very old friend,

Ready at a word a shoulder to lend,

A tear to shed to wake up the olds charms…

.