You see her for the first time, and it is like turning the page in a magazine and stumbling upon a picture of a model—classic perfection, timeless beauty. So easy on the eye that it doesn’t beg for a second look.You turn the page.
Look again.
Beyond those gemstone eyes lies secret treasure hidden in depths such as no mortal could hope to divine. She is not a two-dimensional girl on a page; she is an M.C. Escher drawing— appearing to be one at first glance, but look longer and discover that something is amiss; that the whole image is juxtaposed.
Study her as long as you like. You will find her to be a most exigent puzzle. Perhaps you may fit a few pieces together, but nothing is as it seems. You’ll find that the fusion is only an illusion, and what a fool you have been to think your simplistic musings could solve the riddle of her existence. For that existence in this time and this realm is quite obviously an accident. Like a rose amongst weeds, her grace and grandeur are of the rarest kind in this tedious world so void of anything sacred or enchanting.
The knights of old knew not to slay all the dragons, and the explorers of old to leave lands uncharted. But in this age of conquest and power, there are no secrets left to discover, no more majick to conjure, no more adventures to be had. She is the princess drawn from her tower; not by her knight in shining armor, but by the villagers who plundered the dragon’s lair and burned the Enchanted Forest. No prince comes to woo her; no fairies to beckon her into the ring. The villagers have overthrown the king, glorying in their smug satisfaction at having rid the world of all its magic and mystery. So they think. Yet she walks among them with a secret smile on her face and a touch of magic always on her heart.
(By: Jade)
My Friends
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
