A story of an elf who was punished for his sin of blind trust. Winner Writer Cramp 05/12.
This white beard was not there, dashing was my pretty self.
Toy factory was my workplace, North was my home.
These ropes were not there then, I used to freely roam.
Merry was my name and nature, an elf distinguished.
But that was before she came and my life was finished.
It was a rainy night, and I was cruising in my toy car.
Enjoying the slight chill in air and the shining stars.
Lost in beauty, I never noticed the Lamborghini before me,
Braam! We collided; so much was the smoke that I couldn't see.
Coughing, I got out, worried about a shitty, big fight;
but what I witnessed was vision of her, a gift for sight.
Fairy Senorita, the biggest actress, was standing right there;
she rushed towards the open bumper, before my wits could repair.
As my eyes moved from her face, I noticed a hand in the trunk,
“Is that a body?” I stammered; my mind still half-drunk.
She closed the trunk with a bam and turned with narrowed eyes,
Seeing me half-addled, she gave a heartbreaking sigh.
“Yes,”she replied in a choked voice, “a friend of mine is really sick.
I do not know what to do, my magic has failed and I’m now in a fix.”
Not wanting to see the beauty cry, I asked her if I could help.
So enthralled I was with her, I failed to see any kind of threat.
She requested me to stand there, to care for her friend,
while she got the nearby healer, from the next descent.
Blind to all, I agreed, foolishly offering her my car for use.
I waited on the boulder beside, without thinking, lured by her ruse.
Hour passed, and then two before my mind cleared and horror dawned,
Thinking about the body in the trunk, my mind totally blanked.
But my reaction was not needed as soon the Protectors arrived,
She also came, crying softly for her dead sister, smirking with her eyes.
Since then I have been cuffed by these magical ropes,
Two centuries of banishment to South, without any hopes.
My hands are gnarled, my persona is no more divine.
The toy factory is just a dream of the past, a pleasure left behind.
Listen carefully what I have to say, as these are the words of wise,
Never trust anyone blindly; before helping someone, think twice.