Anapestic Displacement
Yes, Twilight, your question is well understood,
but the story is long, so sit down, if you would.
I have wondered how long it would take you to ask
why I speak in this manner. What use is the task?
Now this story begins in the days of my youth.
Then, I lived with parents and brother, Darsooth,
in the outskirts of town in a place called Zabor.
There, our lives were all happy, but I wanted more.
I was quick to voice all of the thoughts in my head.
I was rude to my peers, and made jokes of the dead.
So my friends called me "poet" in irony then.
I was how I was; I had no sense of Zen.
My actions were rapid and lacked in finesse.
I was foolishly bored by routine, I confess.
My brother, alas, had my thoughts just the same.
For the things that would follow, we share in the blame.
At night, in the dark, we crept out of our home
to meet with some friends of Darsooth's and go roam
through the township while hidden and up to no good,
because teenagers do that, despite what they should.
We wanted excitement, and so we did plan
to break into a building and party a span.
A museum of science is that that we chose.
Through exhibits we'd romp and with statues we'd pose,
and that's what we did as we strayed through the place
until one of us tripped and broke glass and a vase.
The broken glass triggered the building's alarm
thus alerting police through an informant charm.
We hurriedly scattered in fright at the sound
for in minutes the cops would be there to surround.
Darsooth and I fled through the R&D hall,
but we knew we were followed and soon hit a wall.
In the rush to stay safe we hid inside a crate
filled with petals of blue, and for silence did wait.
We got out unscathed that night, far as we knew,
but then, we did not realize the petals of blue
would have long term effects on us, much to our shame
for you've seen these flowers and you know their name.
The flowers were there being researched, it's sure.
For they'd seen the effects but they had not a cure.
The flowers were new in Zabor and its land
which is why he and I dealt with more than we planned.
In the morning we woke up and, after a yawn,
saw that I could not speak and Darsooth's stripes were gone.
The town quickly noticed, connections were made.
We were known as the break-ins. For mercy we prayed.
The judge might have allowed us to stay with amends
if we had not been "cursed," or we sold out our friends.
The two of us both were then sent from Zabor
to live somewhere, if possible, suddenly poor.
We traveled across all the lands that we could,
through the desert and fields, and in some cases, wood,
doing odd jobs and foraging just to survive,
but soon we learned better and started to thrive
on the nomadic lifestyle we found ourselves in.
We made quite a pair, both myself and my twin.
In each village or town all the locals would gawk.
Of Darsooth and mute zebra companion they'd talk.
And most souls refuse to accept such a pair,
so no matter the place, we just could not stay there.
Now we learned many languages as we passed by.
Through necessity, learned and developed an eye
for acquiring tongues, or in my case, just ears,
a difficult skill that we honed over years.
The new focus on sound helped the learning to stick.
I found that I liked foreign words and music.
And then one day Darsooth caught me singing along
I'd not realized I had. I was lost in the song.
And suddenly then I remembered and laughed,
for the thoughtless words long ago that I would craft
won me "poet" as title, sarcastically said.
To that title now I'm ironically wed.
The key to my speech, surely now you can see.
It's occurrence of end rhyme that now limits me.
I'm unable to speak the words that I have said
without first having rhymes for them there in my head,
and since rhyme is dependant on language, of course,
I began sifting through all of them for a source.
The language I found most conducive to voice
is the one of Equestria, clear the next choice.
Darsooth and I packed up our things and set out
for the mighty empire we'd so long heard about.
Much to our dismay, when we reached the new land
we were greeted by ponies with coldness not planned,
For a zebra of rhymes and a stallion of black
struck a fright in the locals. We had to stay back.
And so in the Everfree we came to be,
where I studied the language and lived in a tree
with my brother, as we made a place for ourselves.
Our trinkets collected found room on our shelves.
And that is the place we decided to stay
as I searched through the trees for a cure everyday
while Darsooth was out gathering food and supplies
and all through that, over time, I became wise.
I learned of the flora and fauna around
and all of the wonders that, here, do abound,
but nevertheless I could not find a cure,
so our ailment till death we would have, I was sure.
Yet through the doubt still I continued and sought
for the way to undo what stupidity wrought
until finally, when I was going to give in,
I ran into a traveling merchant and kin.
His family of nomads were used to things strange
and so found me unique. I was glad for the change.
While in conversation he noticed my lines.
Then he asked me just why, and then listened for signs.
I told him our story. A moment he took
to go search through a box for an old musty book
which he then gave to me as he mentioned a page.
As I gazed at the words all my doubts were assuaged.
I ran home at once. Then I burst through the door,
and Darsooth rose to meet me despite being sore
from exertions all day, all throughout which he worked.
I laughed out in glee, his excitement it perked.
I showed him the page and solution, so clear,
to the troubles we had. Now the end had drawn near.
With haste I got all of the things I would need,
truly glad to be free of this curse, like a weed.
So there the bath sat still in front of us both,
and then I looked into it, thought of my growth.
Darsooth jumped right in but I froze in my stride.
In the midst of excitement, I suddenly cried.
I remembered the past and how I used to be
I had changed for the better as far as I see.
My hindrance taught me to think when I speak
and for that I think faster. I'm now at my peak.
I had seen the world and I found a new home.
I had carved out my place in this wooded biome.
I'd communed with the forest and learned of its ways
even monsters with us have no quarrels these days.
And a thought came to me that seemed simply absurd,
"Could a poison joke curse be best when it's not cured?"
At the edge of the bath I just sat there and thought
about what I would do, and the "should," and the "ought,"
comparing the paths I had there in my sight
truly hoping, and praying that I would choose right
between freeing the hold on my mind with this knife
or by keeping the harness that had saved my life.
And then the solution was there, plain as day.
I climbed into the bath and I stayed the same way.
The difference is now that it's my choice alone
what I hold myself to, and in that way I've grown.
And now most of the rest of the story you know.
My brother, now cured with that merchant did go
while I stayed in my hut, for I had settled down
despite the cold glances of those in your town,
until Apple Bloom came here and gave you a scare
followed soon by a floppy horned mess of a mare
who, now, I am proud I can call a true friend.
And that, for the most part, is really the end.
When I think of the warmness you've shown since that night
it is proof in my mind that my last choice was right.