Oh, Father, how did you see
That Lady who razed the Faerie
Lands, and strangled all the Elves
In a fey and fell mood, who delved
Into the Dwarven mines of Moria
And chilled the Sprites in frost from Narnia?
How did you see the Vulture
Behind the Gorgon’s sculpture?
What ward protected your soul
From the smog of that vile ghoul?
Oh, Father, all has come to pass
As you foretold! But I must ask
How it was, that through the smoke
And mirrors of Her farce you broke
To spot Her spotted dress, she that
Champions beauty, and murders it.
See, Father, all the Elves are dead,
And the trees house no more Dryads.
All the Nixies have left the streams,
Storybooks, and children’s dreams.
Science, cruel Mistress, has wasted all
The Fae, stripped them of their Magic,
And rejoiced at Enchantment’s fall.
The beauty that Her eye is quick
To spot is that which ravages Life
And fills the world with ordered strife.
Dear Father, may the Elves come back?
Is all the Magic lost? Can Her destruction
Be reversed? Help, Father! She attacks,
And the sanctuaries have been abandoned.