Survival of the Wittiest

We’ve got a brand new post for our Twisted Fairytales theme! This post is a poem written by Aisha Alsafi titled “Survival of the Wittiest” Enjoy ^^

Once Upon a far away land
In a haunted castle that wasn’t so grand..
Lived a myth through the ages
Of an imp so vicious locked in an iron cage..
Rumpelstiltskin was his name
Though no one saw him ever again..
Across the river lived a peasant
Proud of a daughter, so pretty and pleasant..
They heard of the devil that was imprisoned
But never spoke of him, it was forbidden..
In a dark night, while the grey clouds were marching
And the angels from heavens far above weeping..
A knock was heard on their cottage door
“ I’m looking for shelter, some dry floor,..
Please kind sir, I am cold, let me in if you can”
As the door was opened, Pity overwhelmed the old man..
There stood A short man in pointed boots,
A red hat, wrinkled face and a golden tooth..
Come in my brother, said the farmer
and called his girl to fetch some bread and water..
“Thank you” said the imp as he approached the fireplace
Under the fire glow, there was something in his face..
That disturbed the old man and set him in unease..
“I am thankful to you sir” said the stranger
“Not all would welcome an ugly night ranger..
I came seeking business in a town nearby
But it seems that fate got me here, I wonder why..
Since you gave me shelter from the fierce cold,
I’d like to offer you infinite mountains of gold..
For exchange of a thing so little you see
For that I will need a piece of your flesh to keep..
Not only rich you’ll be
But you’ll have power; all will bow to your knee..
Anyone you hate shall turn into stone
Power and wealth, it’s your new dawn”..
The old man paused, bewildered and amazed
For years he worked hard, but never was raised..
“What is a piece of flesh, I can do with out a finger or a toe
At last! No lawn again I shall mow”..
“Fine”, he said to the grinning little man
Who was holding a parchment in his wrinkled hand..
“This is the deal, please sign and it’s done
Your life as you know it will be all gone”..
Without second thoughts the old fool signed
A shriek was heard and the pretty girl cried..
“Father help, they’re taking me away
I can’t fight them there is no way”..
Within the moment she was no more
As if swallowed to the earth’s blazing core..
A crack from the ground was instantly felt
He was now looking down as his heart melt..
Standing on a mountain of gold that kept growing high
There was no one, no imp only he and the sky..
Drowned in sorrow, he cursed himself
How could he sell his daughter to the elf?..
In a moment of weakness he was taken by greed
Tears fell down, till his eyes started to bleed..
Guilt, regret, sorrow and hate
He felt them all it was too late..
All the gold that for a moment brightly shone
Now just a pile of dull hard stones..
Then limb by limb the man was turned
Eventually got what he truly earned..
There over the Mountain stood a statue
Of a man that Rumpel stole his virtue..
Once Upon a far away land
In a haunted castle that wasn’t so grand..

Author: Aisha Alsafi
Lived a myth through the ages
Of an imp whose story lived only in pages..

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7 thoughts on “Survival of the Wittiest

  1. I would like to compliment your beautiful writing, for it’s a story within a melodious poem. Keep it up, its beyond great and awing. ❤

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