Destined for Downfall

A simple tune

always flowing from these old lips

carrying a secret wisdom

a knowledge of the world around us

an untapped potential to understand 

a lifetime of discovery

that can attribute to a lifetime

of infinite greatness

the simple whistle 

that idly shows contentedness

and experience

your tunes have inspired my mind

and for that I can never give thanks enough

your stories

experiences

have all told me of things I should do

places I should go 

people I should meet

in this brief relapse from darkness we call a lifetime

Dearest Grandfather

Won’t you whistle for me?

In the sunny morning the faerie sings

Her harp creating a waterfall of noise

Bouncing across her sharp voice

She sings a sad song in perfect tune

Her voice is crisp like the morning air

She pierces the wood with her sweet, solemn cries

The tears in her eyes glistening like diamonds in the light

The forest shakes off the night and awakes

Trees, moaning in response

Lending their sorrow to her 

The lark adding his dischordinate song

They sang a lament that few know

Fields of their family laid low

By the children they once held close

Children of nature

Once taught to love their mother

To treat the land as a brother

And care for it 

As it had for them

But they are greedy

Taking more than is needed

Exhausting what was given to them

Forgetting the mercy

They were once given

Destroying the woodlands

The safe places

The sacred places

Where they once played in the dirt

Now they pave it

And it worsens still

The magic that was once held in the dirt

In the flora and fauna

Even in the air

Is fading

The mother that breathed it into us

Is breathing her last

And her every breath is a gasp

As they gouge into her

Scarring her deeper than they can see

Slowly tearing away each piece

That they once praised

As the song came to an end

The very earth sighed

Rain fell as the mother cried

Not for her pain

But for her children

Remembering how kind they once were

Wondering where she went wrong

When they stopped listening

And then fell again to sleep

Preserving her strength for the next crime her children committed

To her now frail, sickly body

The faerie laid down her harp and felt the magic drift away

Her very breath replaced by the smoke of the machines 

To which humans now prayed

Her last thought was not of anger

Nor grief

For her own demise

Merely pity

For her long lost brothers

As they built up their cities

that’s so messed up that people would do that

in fact, let’s spread it everywhere so everyone knows not to do that

and everyone knows exactly what to do so that they don’t do that

@nyamafriend @mackie-winchester @saltybambootrash guys look

i emailed them and-

Spirit Board

Magic Item #1 by One-Sheet One-Shots.

you can read more about it here, and here- this excerpt sums up what information Hum will send: 

It tells the user what sites/apps you’re going on, for how long you’re on them, and WHERE YOU ARE ON AN UPDATING MAP.

So you know if you’re in an abusive household and use sites like tumblr to escape and talk to friends, you could be cut off from that.