11-09-2007, 04:47 AM
I was supposed to Gothify a Childrens story, so here is my sad Attempt:
Horton Hatches the Egg.
On top of a tree,
A lazy raven stood
With sores in her bottom
Impaled with wood.
“Boredom has found me
As If I was dead,
If I rest any longer,
I’ll go crazy and loose my head.”
So the sly raven looked around,
And a foolish candidate is what she found.
Horton the Panther slowly trudged by,
And saw the pained Raven,
And how she would cry,
“Oh please humble panther, rest on my egg,
For blood is dripping down my flesh, oh don’t make me beg!”
The panther looked and tried not to laugh,
“Such a request is completely absurd,
For I am a panther, and you are a bird.”
“But please, my skin is sore as hell!”
The panther heard the bird cry and responded,
“I will let you rest, very well.”
The raven grew happy as if it were drunk
For she did not care how far her selfishness sunk.
“Thank you my sir, I’ll be back in a day,
I can’t show my happiness enough I must say.”
So the raven flew out into the air,
And Horton sat, just Laying there.
Horton grew very bored of the wait,
“I wish not to sit here, this can’t be my fate”.
So Horton sat…
And sat…
And sat all day…
And figured the Raven had run away.
Then a storm came, with rain sharp and thin,
And the rain finally froze and pierced Horton’s skin.
“This rain may be strong,” said Horton in a cry,
“But I made a promise, which I will stand by.”
Meanwhile on a beach where the raven sat,
She vowed to relax and never go back.
But Horton on the egg faced a hard winter,
With ice that pierced his skin as if the snow was made of splinters.
But when summer finally cam through,
A noise came from the egg that sounded quite new.
He looked at his egg,
And to his surprise,
A baby raven hatched,
Right before his very eyes!
Then the mother raven came back searching for her chick,
But Horton left a note on some wood that was thick.
“Dear Raven,” the writing on the wood said,
“I have taken your child as my own,” she read.
The raven panicked and panicked as she searched for her young,
But Horton and the baby left, like a song that had been sung.
Whats the moral of this story,
Can you see?
It’s what goes up comes back down,
So treat each other kindly.
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