Alone in his den, the elfin child sleeps. She safely slumbers her moments away, clear from danger. Clear of emotion. Deep in her den, the elfin child dreams. A happy dream it must be, for the elfin girl smiles. In the dream of the little elfin girl, life is perfection. People are free. They are not enslaved by the clutches of other beings' taboos and biases.
In her waken hour, the elfin child does not smile. She does not feel. The girl has always been alone. To dream is her nirvana. For in these dreams, in these fantasies, she has emotions. More importantly, she is no longer alone.
It is a new sensation to dream; to feel what has never before been felt; to see what has never before been seen. 'Tis frightening though because to feel joy, one must know sorrow, to feel ecsatasy, one must know pain.
The little elfin girl is no stranger to confusion, for with confusion she is well aquainted. It is a strange world in which you try so hard and manage to grasp reality with both hands and then just watch it slide through your fingers, paralyzed. To dream of reality and reality is your dream. This is the life of the girl.
One might ask, what is the name of the elfin girl. She is nameless. No one is around to address her or call her by a name. So she is no one, for no one is aware of her existance. Yet she is everyone, for her own self is all she knows.
The elfin girl awakens. To darkness. It is a peaceful darkness, yet scary. It is peacefulin the sense that it is dependable. At least if there is darkness and light appears it is a sign of hope. But it is just a sign, not a promise. The darkness will always return. It is dependable.
But the darkness is frightening. Eternal. She knows that she is forevor trapped. Trapped in the very darkness that prevents her from living her dream.
That little elfin child is a part of me, always trying to break free.
In her waken hour, the elfin child does not smile. She does not feel. The girl has always been alone. To dream is her nirvana. For in these dreams, in these fantasies, she has emotions. More importantly, she is no longer alone.
It is a new sensation to dream; to feel what has never before been felt; to see what has never before been seen. 'Tis frightening though because to feel joy, one must know sorrow, to feel ecsatasy, one must know pain.
The little elfin girl is no stranger to confusion, for with confusion she is well aquainted. It is a strange world in which you try so hard and manage to grasp reality with both hands and then just watch it slide through your fingers, paralyzed. To dream of reality and reality is your dream. This is the life of the girl.
One might ask, what is the name of the elfin girl. She is nameless. No one is around to address her or call her by a name. So she is no one, for no one is aware of her existance. Yet she is everyone, for her own self is all she knows.
The elfin girl awakens. To darkness. It is a peaceful darkness, yet scary. It is peacefulin the sense that it is dependable. At least if there is darkness and light appears it is a sign of hope. But it is just a sign, not a promise. The darkness will always return. It is dependable.
But the darkness is frightening. Eternal. She knows that she is forevor trapped. Trapped in the very darkness that prevents her from living her dream.
That little elfin child is a part of me, always trying to break free.
