7 June 2012
[Inspired by @Delilah and @puffy1980 - make sure you're sitting comfortably for this one...]
In Faerie Folklore there is a story that tells of a great internal war. It took place inside a male Fae, one day when he was off making hay. A tiny menacing sprite found him there alright, It clutched him in spirity-claws and held down his mind with blood stained jaws.
The sprite whispered to the Fae, "This is a momentous day. For the Seven Sins are out to play." The little Fae, taken by the spell, Took it all upon him as well, To act out each one before dusk, A task to do he suddenly must.
At first the Fae was lazy, laying back on his hay and enjoying a warm day all hazy, But as he watched the sun pass through the skies he remembered his oath, And thought that was enough of being a SLOTH.
He flew back to the Fae Wood, thinking of his sweet heart, and how he wanted her to take his dart... He was full of LUST and a burning desire, filling him up so hot like a funeral pyre, With skin flushed red he climbed uninvited into her bed, and feasted on her until he was fed.
The little Faerie once again flew on, his head feeling a bit airy, but then again he is a menacing faerie... A thought entered his head as passed the pub, entering in and ordering all the mead, He drank and drank but did not pay, Oh no, not today! GLUTTONY was the way!
But the day was only noon, So he staggered out of the saloon, Almost knocked down by a passing Duocorn, He shouted words full of scorn! His rage was unfurled, Making his fingers and fists curled, His WRATH was unleashed upon the poor beast, Snapping off her left horn and leaving her a mere unicorn...!
His PRIDE was hurt, For he fell back drunkenly into the dirt, A Duocorn horn held tightly in hand, Truly a rare item in all the land, His eyes soon filled with GREED, Off to the market he did proceed, Asked for pennies to just touch the thing, Told Faeries far and wide it would help them sing, Spread rumours of how it could heal, And how it would make your life ideal.
But all he spread was contempt and dislike, All properly educated Faeries know the true power of the piece, Soon he was looked upon as if he bathed in grease, (a terrible term of Faerie filth and slander) That soon spiked his anger!
But as the sun began to set, The only sin left not yet met, Filled his very bones with green, And tore him apart at the very seams.
Seven Sins • Opuss № I