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 Eleven Jingles In A Box by Evildif Eleven Jingles in a box. And eleven stags prance around the Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. Her flaming hair like a Fox's And eyes greener than the greenest grass. Transparent wings of the finest silk O what a lovely Phaline is she. The winged rats from the Black land yonder Swoop down on the celebration And snatch up the Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. The stags stop prancing, And the Jingles cry For the loss of their beautiful Phaline. The winged rats carry the Phaline Carry her back to the Black land. Deep into the Black land. And they put her in a crystal chamber So that all winged rats can see her. See the beautiful Phaline. The sorrow of the stags and the Jingles Turns slowly to anger And they gather and create an army To bravely march into the Black land And take back their Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. The army of the Jingles and stags and fairies Crosses rivers, climbs mountains, Travels in the burning sun And the pouring rain. All for their Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. They come to the entrance of the Black land. A big, black, gaping mouth. The army stops dead. Then the eleventh Jingle runs in, and the rest of the army follows. The bravery for their Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. The passage of the Black land is eerie. Drops of water and footsteps break the silence. But there is a light, A wondrous light, A pulling light, which posesses, And the army moves foreward. They are closer. Ever closer to the glorious light. The army is gleeful. A shadow moves across the light. Teh eleventh Jingle is struck with terror And he orders the army to "STOP!" They tumble over each other And the eleventh Jingle puts a finger to his lips. The light is in a big open space. The army creeps toward the open space The illuminated open space Illuminated by the beautiful Phaline. The Phaline is standing with her head down While the winged rats fly about her Just for one look at the Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. Her silver tears cast the light Of the beautiful Phaline. The army of Jingles and stags and fairies Becomes overwhelmed with rage And they charge into the light. The wondrous light. The light of the Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. The stags and Jingles and fairies Fight the suprised winged rats. And the eleventh Jingle climbs up to the Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. He reaches out to free her, And suddenly, she is gone. The eleventh Jingle looks wildly about 'Till he finds the receding light The glorious light The light of the Phaline. And the Great winged rat carries her away Out of the Black land, he carries her away. The eleventh Jingle tries to follow But more winged rats block the way And the Jingle screams in anguish As the light fades away. And still the army fights For their beautiful Phaline. Many days later, The army finally leaves the Black land The horrible Black land Littered with the limp bodies of the winged rats. And they begin the search for the Great winged rat And for their beautiful Phaline. In the heart of the forest lies a toadstool A magic toadstool. And all the powers of the universe Lie right inside this tiny toadstool And the army knows that they have to find it So they can find their Phaline, their beautiful Phaline. And the army sets off toward the heart of the forest Toward this magic toadstool Which will help them find the Phaline O the beautiful Phaline. A hard battle and difficult journey All for their beautiful Phaline. The army of Jingles and stags and fairies Travels through the dense forest. And just as they are getting close, So close to the magic toadstool, They are stopped by a great barrier. A barrier of thick, innocent ivy. The eleventh Jingle orders the army to wait And he unsheathes a might sword. And swinging this sword, he runs into the ivy. The ivy is suddenly full of life And it strangles the brave Jingle. The army silently watches the ivy kill the eleventh Jingle. And the army mourns For the loss of this brave Jingle Who loved the Phaline O the beautiful Phaline And a handsome unicorn steps out of the ivy With the magic toadstool around his neck. A stag steps cautiously toward the unicorn And takes the toadstool from around his neck And with a few unspoken words The unicorn disappears into the ivy With one request. Save the beautiful Phaline. The stag gently pulls the crown off of the toadstool And stares into its depths. He sees a great stone dwelling With high walls and dark towers. And he finds the Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. And, stringing the magic toadstool around his neck The stag leads the army onward To the other side of the forest. To the castle. To where the Great winged rat holds the prisoner Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. And for many fortnights the army travels Until they reach the condemned castle And silently cross its rotting drawbridge. They head toward the north tower Where the Great winged rat keeps the beautiful Phaline. The prisoner, Phaline. And when the army makes it to the top of the tower, They see the beautiful Phaline atop a stool. She winces as the Great winged rat flies about her And beats her with his magnificent wings. And the room is filled with the light Of the Phaline, O the beautiful Phaline. The stag steps boldly foreward And fifty more winged rats swoop down from hiding. The Phaline looks about for her beloved eleventh Jingle But he is not to be found. The army fights another ferocious battle For their beautiful Phaline. The war is over. And the floor is covered with fallen warriors. The Great winged rat has the stag trapped in a corner So the stag lifts up the magic toadstool And unleashes all of its powers. And the Great winged rat is banished, forever. The brave stag lifts the Phaline off of the stool And hesitates when he is asked about the eleventh Jingle. And upon hearing about his death, The shocked Phaline's appearance shifts. Though she is still beautiful O the beautiful Phaline. The army with the Phaline Crosses rivers, climbs mountains, Travels in the burning sun And the pouring rain. Until they finally reach their home. Safely, with their beautiful Phaline. Ten Jingles in a box. And eleven stags prance around the Phaline. O the beautiful Phaline. Her sleek hair, black as the night And eyes bluer than the bluest sky. Tattered wings of the finest silk. O what a lovely Phaline is she.
Copyright © 2002 Evildif, sffworld.com. All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the author. The author has submitted the work in accordance with and in agreement with the following Submission Guidelines |
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