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Click hereThe sylvan plains are empty. No more elves,
no nymphs or fauns
dance to the river's murmurings,
celebrating -
Big Brother's new disciples all agree
those guileless feasts
had to be ended, anyhow,
at their dictating.
The little people fled to cave and tree.
They'll bide their time
and calmly weather any storm -
they're hibernating
while I, without them, sometimes ask myself
just who's to blame,
or what; if they'll return; how long
I must keep waiting...
but then again, I fear I know the answers.
As human ears
find truth and substance in what's base
and overrated
they needn't bother to suppress the dancers –
for who could dance
when grace, poise and humanity
all are outdated?
One faerie ring to find them, One faerie ring to bring them all and in the fairie darkness bind them? Not sure if Big Brother quite fits in this conflict of Ariel and Caliban?