Thursday, January 19, 2017

Fantasy Friday: Spited Faces

The last of all the unicorns had died;
The pow'rs that ruled the world they'd shared had banned
Procedures that would save her (they had lied
Unto the People, as they long had planned.
The folk belief was that to save a beast
Of this rare kind, a human's life must end).
Now at the long and awkward, final feast,
The people realized no one could mend
The harm done to the world. The unicorns
Kept death of a most awful kind at bay.
Without them, soon the world would come to mourn
The passing, yes, of light itself -- the sun
Did only turn toward Earth to watch their fun!

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