The night before last as I sat on the very same spot,
As I often come to wonder and blot.
While I lay upon a decaying willow;
A sudden billow of feeling hollow.
My eyes wide filled with ire;
My mind is filled with frivolous desire.
For sixty years I lay upon here—
Dreaming for a life that no longer drear.
You see, while my hands are free and my mind is lucid,
My feet are bounded to this land so putrid.
The Seer who casted me on this addled land,
Was once a saint from Dreamland.
When asked how I shall free myself,
She told me just ask thyself.
No, it is you, who imposed me to this atrocious place,
Now you are leaving me without a hint of grace?
The first three years were filled with misery,
But then the fourth year it all became history.
Little by little as I adapted,
Soon I have forgotten how I should have acted.
Until the night before the last,
As I saw a butterfly flying past,
That is when I remembered the good old days,
Chasing butterflies and having my ways.
The freedom and luxury I once took granted,
I would now do anything for a piece I flaunted.
I cried, cursed, and became belligerent,
This dam place has become my detriment.
As I made my peace with my last despair,
That is when the Seer finally appeared.
Oh my my, look how you have aged,
That bright lad I once knew no longer a sage.
Thanks to you I replied,
What you told me long ago has been a lie.
For sixty years I was trapped with fear—
I can never go back and now it is clear.
The seer answered “you are wrong my child”
You never once explored the wild.
Every day you drain yourself with sorrow,
Laying on that dam decaying willow.
But now it is too late as I came to collect,
You are dying, hope I am not being too direct.
“Wait, wait” I screamed with my last breath,
How do I go home since I am now facing death.
All you had to do was walk for two days,
And you would have found your familiar place.
The clock is ticking you only have few hours,
You will never make it with your own power.
I wasted six decades dwelling on the past,
And all I had to do was believe I will last?
You ruined my life with your menace blunder,
I hope you get struck by the great thunder.
Oh hush my child don’t be bitter,
Even without me your life will be litter.
Cause I am neither faery nor unordinary,
I am merely imaginary.