Faires flew around my head,
and Dragons perched upon my bed.
The Elve's bridled a uni-corn,
for my daily ride in the early morn.
I floated up into the sky,
and looked down from way up high.
I saw a river, perhaps a stream,
shimmering up just like a dream.
I plunged into it's murky depth,
and swam upon the eddys met.
The fear of what was in the sea,
only seemed to heighten me.
When I was tired, I took a ride,
upon a 4-wheeler on a mountain side.
With cliffs all around, and wind in my face,
I squeezed the throttle and started to race.
But I saw the birds and wanted to fly,
so I sprouted wings and gave it a try.
I glided on currents high above earth,
and remembered the times when I had no worth.
Pain erupted from deep inside,
and fire flew out from within my eye's.
I scorched the land, I also tore,
and in a blaze, I was no more.
And in the ashes, there was bore,
the one who would write to tell the lore.
The master of dreams, the user of diction,
the wizard of words, the dreamer of fiction.
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