This is called storyteller, I've been experimenting with different types of
writing, which is why this is structured differently. Written in prose
poetry form which we've been studying in English – kinda like what
Shakespeare wrote in I guess. Tell me what you think.
For my nephew Max – the little storyteller 'No Lecky, I didn't hit Ella, I
playing with trains, was Thomas tank engine hit Ella, not Max!'
*!*
There are places in the world
That are dark and forbidden
These are places the damned
And sinners rule during the
Deep and timeless hours of night
It is these places that create
Things the world has never seen
Things the world marvels at
And remembers for ages to come
Stories, legends, myths and fairytales
The most famous of all these things
Is the tragic story of two lovers
A poet and a courtesan
Brought together by fate
And ripped apart by the same means
Never has there been a tale
Wrapped up in more love
And tainted by more jealousy
Than this of naïve poet Christian
And a glittering diamond
From the depths of the dirty
And sinners domain
Lives a tiny angel from heaven
Hidden away inside the heart
Of a tormented and daydreaming
Red headed dancer of the Moulin Rouge
Far, far away in the proper society
Of early London, bustling with trams
And steam trains, lives a little boy,
A very strange, enchanted boy
Whose head was full of poetry
Ballads, sonnets, rhymes and limericks
Two little children born into the world
By very different circumstances
Whose paths were destined to cross
And entwine together for eternity
A weave that would never come undone
Two little hearts both made
To be beaten and bruised by life
And healed and broken by love
Both in different ways resulting
From the same circumstance
The dark places ruled over by sinners
And drenched in deeds of the damned
Can make the purest and most beautiful things
That can make the wretched sigh,
But there is always one thing to remember
It comes at an expensive cost,
Which is why it is good to avoid
Anything pure the dark places
Think and conjure up, which
Is why you'll hear most of the
Damned whispering to you as
You walk the windmill hallways
One piece of advice...
Never fall in love.
writing, which is why this is structured differently. Written in prose
poetry form which we've been studying in English – kinda like what
Shakespeare wrote in I guess. Tell me what you think.
For my nephew Max – the little storyteller 'No Lecky, I didn't hit Ella, I
playing with trains, was Thomas tank engine hit Ella, not Max!'
*!*
There are places in the world
That are dark and forbidden
These are places the damned
And sinners rule during the
Deep and timeless hours of night
It is these places that create
Things the world has never seen
Things the world marvels at
And remembers for ages to come
Stories, legends, myths and fairytales
The most famous of all these things
Is the tragic story of two lovers
A poet and a courtesan
Brought together by fate
And ripped apart by the same means
Never has there been a tale
Wrapped up in more love
And tainted by more jealousy
Than this of naïve poet Christian
And a glittering diamond
From the depths of the dirty
And sinners domain
Lives a tiny angel from heaven
Hidden away inside the heart
Of a tormented and daydreaming
Red headed dancer of the Moulin Rouge
Far, far away in the proper society
Of early London, bustling with trams
And steam trains, lives a little boy,
A very strange, enchanted boy
Whose head was full of poetry
Ballads, sonnets, rhymes and limericks
Two little children born into the world
By very different circumstances
Whose paths were destined to cross
And entwine together for eternity
A weave that would never come undone
Two little hearts both made
To be beaten and bruised by life
And healed and broken by love
Both in different ways resulting
From the same circumstance
The dark places ruled over by sinners
And drenched in deeds of the damned
Can make the purest and most beautiful things
That can make the wretched sigh,
But there is always one thing to remember
It comes at an expensive cost,
Which is why it is good to avoid
Anything pure the dark places
Think and conjure up, which
Is why you'll hear most of the
Damned whispering to you as
You walk the windmill hallways
One piece of advice...
Never fall in love.