• Published 13th Jul 2013
  • 2,475 Views, 51 Comments

Twilight gets stung by a bee (and other short stories) - GrouchoMarxDisciple

Twilight has a close encounter with a stinging striped insect.

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The Song of the Sea

The night, the dark, oppresses me,
My story never told.
Someday, somehow, I'll be set free,
My story to unfold.
But at this time of dark and drear,
My love of life grows cold.
The seaponies, we live in fear,
Of, without friends, growing old.

Though the life of the others is spread abroad,
Our stories they withhold.
Our lives, our hopes, our friends, our fears,
Are left out in the cold.
If you seek to hear of us,
You never will, I'm told.
For we matter none to no-one,
us Seaponies of old.

The song of the Sea, it sings to me,
as I have often told.
The crashing of creatures, the thrashing of waves,
The darkness and the cold.
Telling me of lives not lead,
of chapters to unfold...
I am the song of the sea.
My story, dead and cold.