I have spent several sleepless nights on this, what better way to pen down my insomnia like I do here.
The son of the magician,
Had a gift of his own,
He lived out his illusions,
As if they’d never unfold.
Trained to be an artist,
A master illusionist.
He would pluck fired bullets mid air,
And stand on one legged chairs.
Deep inside he was a wanderer,
Of dreams and mystical places.
Not too long ago, his mother had become the star of the night sky,
To see her, he had learned to fly.
She would tell him,
“Win the princess of seven seas”,
For, her beauty was so magical,
That, only virgin minds could see.
He had once heard,
One mustn’t close their eyes,
For once you fall asleep,
She would be gone within a blink of an eye.
He was awake for several days,
Had several demons to slay.
She was being kept captive,
The demons were so non fictive.
Amon, the demon of the Sea of the Anger,
A capable volcanic archer,
Was defeated in patience,
A magical act of brilliance.
Across the seven seas,
He had fought demons big,
And some as small as fleas.
Now, his armor was weaker,
And his presence leaner.
But, he had promises to keep,
For them he’d never sleep.
That night had arrived,
He could see his to be bride.
The demons were defeated,
And their parts had been well acted.
She walked in a fine satin gown,
Fireflies made for her crown.
Her beauty was covered in a veil,
But, she seemed disappearing in the morning rays.
He sat startled on his morning bed,
And could only remember,
Falling asleep just before the exchange of the rings.