Our stories

We've survived wordy labyrinths
of dragging stories
tales unfold uncontrollably on the spiders web of beguilling rainbows and the hyena tails us,
gathering the red petals of our aborted hope,
eating them with the salt mockery...
but where are the promised laughters of happy endings?
where are the tears of joy.
gradually we awaken from the spell of the story teller
gathering our shattered tale from the graveyard of buried dream.
Lets seize our tale from the lips of the flying tortoise
who has swallowd more than he can chew
after stealing our feathers, feed into ballots of trust.