//------------------------------//
// Coda 
// Story: Fallen-Song 
// by Chicago Ted 
//------------------------------//

Although the princess did not know the why,
Th’ ascent did not take quite as long. A sigh –
Perhaps that riddle she would solve in time,
When her true death came. May it not be nigh!

She set hoof on the ground, and knew this rhyme:
These many riftways led to dreams. In prime
Of night, they may be open’d, but not now.
She did surmise that dawn had past. The climb

Was not yet done; she had to make her vow
To Sister Dear that she’d survive. But how
Would she find her own mind? Her final thought,
Perhaps, but what might that be? Would her plow

Of magic slice the furrow, where she ought
To be, in such case? How long had she fought
The elements o’ th’ Land of Fallen, too?
So many questions left for her, but not

Enough t’ answer them. She would yet push through
These queries – she would solve them later. Who
Could say? They may still lay within the place
Now lost to Everfree this day. Her view

Was clouded over, and yet nought would grace
Her sight. But that was it – no clue could trace
Her back to th’ source of immortality.
She’d have to find it on her own; no chase

Before could guide her on her way, to see
Her to new life. She had one guide, but he
Had perisht for all time so she could live.
As much as she would true regret it, she

Knew, too, that they would ever be captive
If she chose to forsake the blue rose. Th’ sieve
Of will dictated that the strong survive,
Both form and mind. She hop’d that they’d forgive

The necessary sacrifice. She’d thrive
For his sake, making sure that she should strive
To keep her life as long as she well could.
For now, she’d make sure that she was alive

Still – just as soon as she’d divine the good
Part of this realm: her own. From there, she should
Revive, as though she woke up from a dream –
Except said dream was death untimely. Would

Her sister listen to what she would deem
A fabricated lie? How would it seem,
This Land of Fallen, where the dead would pass
A second time when they’re forgotten, stream

To nought but dust to down in th’ hourglass
Of time? Their lives determin’d by their class
Of moral, that was more believable,
But ev’rything besides was all, alas,

Mere fantasy and superstition, full
Of doubt upon her part. Was she able
To argue anyway? She’d try, for sure;
What reason had she not to let the lull

Take over? Sure, she quickly might assure
Her sister she could not bring her savior
Alive with her, but how about his son?
He sent himself to her, so she’d secure

His father’s health; to know this, how would one
Break th’ news? These questions many she would run
Within her mind, as she’d drift without aim
Throughout the dream-realm – when she’d happen ’pon

A feeling most familar. O that same
Tug on her heartstrings, guiding her to claim
Her place within her homeland. She would let
It tug her right along – but who could blame

Her? She’d not any other way; no other threat
Would try to harm or hinder; nary debt
She had to square away – well, other than
What she had in the living world. She’d fret

Not anymore o’er it; she had a plan,
And she would execute. Where she began
Was where she’d end this journey at long last.
Her heart would flutter nonstop like a fan,

Or like her wings upon her back, ’til fast
She hit upon her mark. Within this vast
Realm, she had somehow found her goal!
She lit her horn one final time, and cast

That spell unus’d to open up the hole.
Once it was torn enough, Luna would stroll
Through the rift – as though she belong’d right here.
Inside was dark, but that would change; her soul

Was right inside herself again – a mere
Flutter of eyes away from life. She’d peer,
But her eyes felt already wide. A strain,
And she would feel herself stir, ever near

T’ Equestria, and her sister, once again.
She felt her limbs and back, and felt the pain
She never knew before. And finally,
She open’d up her eyes. Behind her mane,

Physicians, far as her eyes could see.
And as she peer’d, they’d start to panic. “She
Is risen!” one would cry – and all the lot
Would either cheer, to know they answer’d th’ plea,

Or breathe a sigh in their relief. She ought
To do the same – but she found herself taut
And stiff, as if she’d not move for a while.
The celebration died down quick, which caught

Her focus. Looking to th’ way, she would smile
Weak, as she saw the solar sister. “I’ll
Be o’er the sun and moon,” she said aloud.
“At last, my sister dear! I would beguile

You with some needless talk, but you’re endow’d – ”
“Where is the baker?” Luna askt – she’d not shroud
Herself in mystery; she knew instead
What happen’d to him. She would laugh out loud;

When she stopt, she had th’ answer. “He is dead.
Some Shade’s Corruption poison’d him,” she said.
“That curst affliction’s fatal, and what’s more,
I fear you have the same inside your head.

You’ve been inside his dream, yes? I implore
You – tell me just what happen’d.” “What a chore
It was,” said Luna, “but to you I pray,
Give me some time t’ reflect. I’ve much in store,

But I just came right back to life today.”
“Came back to life?” she askt. “What do you say?
Do you mean you were – dead this whole time?” “Aye,”
Her sister answer’d. “Thus the long delay

In waking from that ‘slumber’ – you know why.”
Celestia stood without a word. A lie,
Or worse, the truth? What else could Luna tell
Her? Yet instead, she broke down in a cry,

Reliev’d that th’ lunar sister’s fate’d not spell
Disaster for the land. “What sort of spell
Would let you die?” she askt “I’ll have it bann’d
At once – if you, as you have told me, fell

Within untimely sleep of death, no land
Would ever know how else to access, and
I’ll make full certain of it.” “None at all,”
Her sister would reply. “It was unplann’d –

If I had known that his death’d make me fall,
I would not have tried to help him. The wall
Between the life and death is steadfast most,
And I could not cross for some time. Your call

To me across the barrier, on the coast
Without a sea, was comforting – almost;
Beyond that, you could not help bring me back.”
“A coast without a sea? Did you play host

To endless sand?” “Aye, that I did! The lack
Of water did not either help – why, we would rack
Our vim t’ survive in desolation – ” “‘We?’”
“Indeed – he was my guide, and had a knack

For finding others in the land – ” Then she
Would place her hoof upon her mouth. “You’re free
Now from the place; you can tell me your tale
Once you heal from your death. Until then, he

Would like a word with you.” He lookt quite pale,
The colt who saw her first, as though a veil
Of white had drapt across his scrawny form.
“O Princess Mine!” he greeted. “You’d avail

Yourself to me, this whole time! Not the norm
I would expect, but I am grateful!” Warm
His words may be, but she would need to give
Him ill news. “I have tried, but in the storm

Within his head, he past. Please don’t forgive
This error grave – it was a rout massive,
And even though I tried to free his soul,
He gave his life out, so that I may live.”

The colt sigh’d. “Yes, I was afraid the stroll
Amid the afterlife had kept. The toll
Upon you must have been so very great –
If Father could not live again, then th’ whole

Thing was for nought.” She askt, “So you don’t hate
Me?” “Not at all! – You may have been too late,
So far too late, but that you’ve tried to save
My father from inevitable fate

Is most brave. Please rest not, My Liege – the grave
Comes for us all, except you two. He gave
His ended life, so you can bring forth night
For all th’ land. See yourself not as a slave,

But as the Keeper of the Night. Your might
Is unmatcht – further, just as well, your sight
Into the realm of dreams can comfort, or
Guide us through th’ throes of death, where light

Is lacking – ” Luna laught. “That light shall bore
Into your skull,” she said. “It is a chore
Itself to seek out darkness, even shade.
Is my hide sing’d?” Celestia said, “I swore

The healers that’d not happen, lest they’ve made
A great mistake.” Luna’s hoof was displaid
Before her eyes – no single grain of sand
Could be found; it was wholly clean. “The maid

Made sure you were still well-kept and
Clean, whilst the healers did their work.” “How grand,”
She said – “but did you try to me to speak?”
“Admittely, I did,” she said – “I’d land

My horn to yours, to see if I could peek
Within. I did think of a mountain’s peak – ”
“That’s it!” she cried. “The picture came the way
Into my soul – that place was what we’d seek,

And when I came alone, there would display
My path t’ rebirth!” She babbl’d of her stay
Without an end, and they would heed her word.
They listen’d of th’ eternal lonely day,

Of how one’s actions saw their futures blurr’d
To ill or well, how memory – absurd! –
Can stave off death, since memory was bound
To th’ soul, and lapsing can fate be alter’d.

For death is not the end, as they had found –
E’en as the corpse descends into the ground,
Their time progresses, ’mid the endless waste,
Until the ones they knew make nary sound –

Then their demise sets in, with all due haste.
Eventually, Celestia got the taste
Of what her sister had learn’d and seen, wide
Across the place, and which being she grac’d.

And ne’er again would Luna pry inside
The heads of dying ones. The last had died
Beneath her watch of night, regrettably,
And ever onward, merely she had spied.

But when she turn’d to the dark, she would see
Herself be sent to th’ moon. From then on, she
Would peer on all the land, and see how just
Exile was – yet she staid sad as can be;

For she had lost one night her sister’s trust
When she was irkt by rival love. She must
Beat her with her night and her moon as tool –
And yet, to save us all, her sister’d thrust

A magic great on her – the darken’d fool –
To bring us forth her dawn. And thus, her rule
Was just by her own lonely self, sans lead
To help her. For the thousand years so cruel

T’ Our Liege, she’d just her wish that she’d be freed
From her leave, and that she would with great speed.
With luck, our One ’gain will turn back to Two,
As was i’ th’ years before – that much we need.

To end at last this Fallen-Song, review
What Luna learn’d in death. ’Tis nothing new:
Our Harmony means balance – so to say,
The right amount of each will make it true.

Dishonesty will carve out mistrust’s way;
Create a vow, then break it straight away,
Or speak what one knows is untrue – these can
Dissolve another’s trust without delay.

But t’ emphasize the true fact, rather than
Withhold it – such a grave faux pas will span
The length and breadth and depth of consciousness.
At times, one’s silence can safeguard the clan.

Instead, one should find compromise, and fuss
To see the truth emerge,  to accept. Thus,
It takes such bravery for one to tell
Th’ eternal truth: truth is not just a plus.

Brutality has never function’d well
To solve a war – but rather, it would spell
More fighting for both sides, one whose effect
Is cataclysm, and for all death’s knell.

But by that same coin, one should not reject
Emotion, pathos – lest it would affect
One in each facet of one’s tortur’d life
And be forgotten soon, without respect.

Between these two, one ought to meet the strife
Of living with a bit of kindness, rife
With mercy, understanding – this is not
Limited to just pony and his wife.

The lack of joy, which any tell, has wrought
The worst that anypony’s known – if sought,
It brings about a dark, o’erbearing gloom,
Where misery is all, and hope is nought.

Meanwhile, if one embrac’d only the bloom
O’ th’ world, without the pain, and thus assume
That nothing could turn foul before one’s eyes,
The mere naïvety spells certain doom.

Instead, use laughter as a tool, not prize,
T’ repel the worst calamity the skies
Conjure against you, and do not forget
That pain is only momentary lies.

A very vital lesson ponies get
Is how much treachery can pose a threat –
To scorn another in a time of strain
Begets a bitter sorrow, the right debt.

And to stay true to oneself, to one’s pain
And misery, is foolish and in vain
Quite often – sacrifice to nought of great
Importance has no sense, nor is it sane.

Be steadfast for the ones you love, not hate,
And one does better in that coming fate,
For loyalty begets the loving burn
From others – faith bears such a heavy weight.

One’s avarice ought to be chect, lest learn
It consumes ev’rything near – and in turn,
Affects not only those who wish t’ survive,
But he too, who a heavy debt would earn.

But pity those as well whose living-drive
Convinces them not to remain alive –
When they’ve contributed even their form,
From nought they shatter and no longer thrive.

Consider charity the wanted norm:
A bowl of stew, respite from harsher storm –
Such efforts pure without repayment same
Keep one’s looks shining, and one’s insides warm.

And one can play a very unsafe game
In using sorcery – it could bring shame
And decompose the clan without a sign
Of danger – worse, if mischief is one’s aim.

If one desires removing to align
Sans others all around, and so resign
To solitude, ’tis the same as to be
Without the magic that we all enshrine.

Instead, embrace the magic! Do not flee
From any of them – use them all with glee.
Together, all should form the perfect blend
Of these six Elements of Harmony.

Along the path of life we all will wend
Beside the one whom we would call a friend;
We’ll be together ’til our lives are through –
Yet live forever; Friendship has no end!