If they try to snatch away your verse-poetry,
I promise I'll fight them really hard.
If they ask you to forget your city's tapestry,
I promise I'll have their efforts marred.
'Cause I know how easily
Quicksand-esque reality
Can swamp our daydream tinted days.
Every night I do understand
How words lose their way and
I wait for their return from maze.
Thus in the comfort of the pillow,
And your aggrieved eyes mellow
May the fairy-tales thrive,
Let us live and survive.
Thus in the happy moments such,
And in your assured touch
May the fairy-tales throng
And let us sing along.
If you lose the plot perchance
In the twinkling of an eye,
I promise I'll have order restored.
If they prompt you to exchange
Your roots for your sky,
I promise I'll put their plan to sword.