"Death covered the land,
Nothing but bones and sand,
The curse on the youngest daughter,
Had brought all the men to slaughter,
Pride, the king’s only sin,
Of all his followers brought chagrin,
For the Goddess of all,
Had brought upon the land her heavy maul,
No prosperity or peace,
No benefits or feast,
No happiness or cheer,
Only death and fear,
Shall reign upon the fields,
For the kings false yield,
The youngest daughter shall not laugh,
And the curse shall forever last,
Only by jester’s lips,
Will this bane lift,
Only a smile on the princess’ grimace,
Can forever this hex surpass.
The king searched high and under,
For a clown to end this blunder,
But no said jokester was found,
No smirk upon the little crown.
Years past and people died,
The curse remained, the king now cried inside,
The earth as cold as his baby,
No longer hopes, perhaps or maybe,
One night the wind did rustle,
Told rumors of a hero that now bustle,
The king awoke from the doubtful dream,
That a creature’s wings as it escape did gleam,
The champion would arrive soon,
The old castle lifted from its swoon,
That afternoon a boy and old man did enter,
Lighting up the hall’s mournful specters,
The boy was an entertainer by profession,
Known as the slayer of depression,
He had been informed of the valley’s condition,
And of the young beauty’s position,
“And so it is now my ambition,
To solve this sad rendition,
For gold is not my mission,
But every jester’s tradition,
To bring joy as recognition,
That I’m skilled in my exhibition.
I take on the holy test,
I swear upon the pounding of my chest,
I will do my very best,
To pull of my hat, the ultimate jest.
Show me the girl whom I shall cure,
And later on the fee uphold.
For now I shall do my job,
To ensure no one that I will rob”
To the throne the girl they brought,
With hope escaping every sweat drop,
But much to everyone’s surprise,
The boy smiled wider, from jaw to eyes,
The blood rushed to both teens faces,
As the bell wearing boy drew his aces.
The boy retreated to a room,
Getting ready in his colored costume,
Pure night sky black surrounded in emeralds,
Down to his feet green covered in onyx shards,
His face white as frozen winter,
With spades in his checks all a twitter,
The dropping black, silver and green crown lay on his head,
Resembling slipping viscosity till the tipping thread,
Bells hung on every niche,
To appease the audience pitch,
A staff to carry the tricks,
And an eight feet rainbow ball just for kicks.
The young boy was ready,
Excitement filled the stage already,
All the presents grabbed their skin,
The show was about to begin.
Fireworks burst out the center,
Everyone shouted all as the boy enter,
The room became like night,
The face illuminated by candle light,
“Welcome to the challenge to the Gods!
Be ready to bet against all odds!
I will be tonight’s doleful murderer,
I will be the maddened executioner,
For what no angel ever achieved,
I as a demon this evening will conceive,
I have summoned the ghouls of hell,
The breath of dragon’s to tell,
The greatest story though fire and ash,
The funniest battle that ever did clash”
In that instant the air went black,
The audience waiting for the move of the jack,
And so the jester came into view,
Shining of green fire that around him grew,
Out of the ceiling a dragon of flame appeared,
To whom the warrior laughed and revered.
“Good evening bright lizard,
I am the flame wizard.
I heard of your mischief and appetite,
Now I’m paid out of spite,
The king wants you as his rug,
The villagers, chanting death to the thug”
Flickered did the firework beast,
Opened his mouth and the silence did cease.
“Foolish magical fellow,
Do you not hear my mighty bellow?
I am the king of the skies,
I am the father of my kind,
I will swallow you like a pecker,
And drink your warm nectar”
The boy fell to his knees hysterical,
Laughing madly at the rhetorical.
“I am sorry to hear that flame giant,
But you said that so defiant,
To believe the king of the skies,
Is weak between the thighs.
I never thought you fancied the shaft,
And explained it with such craft,
But if what will calm you is my rod,
By all heaven suck the pod”
The crowd in tears of joy fell to the floor,
The dragon in full lunged in roar,
The fight of fire had begun,
But the joke still the dragon stung.
“Tell me o great scaly thing
(as the boy dodged the mammoth swing)
Do you enjoy the male juice?
Cause I assure you I have sweet produce”
In flames did the field go under,
The dragon’s breath in anguished plunder,
Trying to take the insulter’s life,
But no one in the hall did strife.
The wizard behind the mirage being showed,
Poking at the tartar’s junk.
“oh my, but it’s so small in size,
No wonder the females withheld their pies”
The teeth bearer blind in rage,
Snapped and stroked at the witty sage.
“I am the dragon lord!
I am the demon’s cord!
No straighter male will you ever find!
No stop the perverted gay image in mind!”
“Denial is always the first response,
To the confronting of the lack of being ensconce,
So sad to know that the baron or all barons,
Would not be a Rex, but a Sharon”
The fight continued in mystifying displays,
To all senses the show did sway,
Between the fire spectacle,
And the long eye lashed non mammal,
The kinsmen were chanting,
The ladies were panting.
The battle came to an end,
the wizard the dragon did apprehend.
“I am sorry gay monster,
Is their anything u want before the final blur?”
The dragon did stare and swallowed,
But his gaze the pants did fallow.
And in one last effort,
The young man was laid short.
Not of figure or stature
But of his virgin snatcher.
Chuckled loudly did the fallen,
As the boy tried to recover what as stolen.
The beast yet swallowed,
And whispered what fallowed.
“I guess I must be a defective male,
But you are no longer higher in scale,
I have stolen your great pride,
No more ladies you will ride”
With that the dragon’s last breath
He gave the hero a pain best than death,
The wizard still could not help but smile
“in the end, my dick a dragon beguile”
The lights to the throne returned,
The onlookers happiness still burned.
Sadly the princess still not grin,
But she still glared the jester within.
Te fool thinking quickly,
Knowing his head would be cut of quite thickly,
Decided to Die with no remorse,
And to the princess he set a course,
The knights seeing the approaching threat,
Tried stopping the future upset,
But the clown was to fast,
The die had been cast.
“For you the queen of my heart,
A token of my best art,
I give you twelve blood red roses,
And among them one who reality opposes,
Thirteen in the entire handful,
Weaved of golden wool,
And I shall love you,
Till the last one says adieu”
With that last attempted of succeeding,
He ended with the princess cheek now kissing.
And every knight stopped short,
To see the princess mouth now smiling in the court.
The jester had defied the gods,
He had defeated all odds.
Happiness then ruled the land,
As a clown reigned with a princess as his bridal hand."
Jester, an epic poem — by the Night Jester