Spike writes poems about his identity, his life with Twilight, and his friends.
One day, Spike is visited by the muse. Inspiration strikes him to create poetry. What you see here are a few poems by Ponyville's favorite dragon about his identity, his life with Twilight, lessons he has learned, and his friends.
I just had this idea and wanted to write from Spike's perspective within poetic expression. I plan on adding more poems about his friends and the many things they taught him. When I am satisfied, I will finish off with a very special poem to Spike.
I don’t exist in pony or dragon world. For a pony, I am too scaly and sharp, bristling with green embers and raking claws. For a dragon, I am too small and gentle, averse to greed and hoarding.
I walk between worlds, where boundaries mean nothing Where pony tempers dragon fury and dragon tempers pony softness Where pony bolsters the pride of a species and dragon bolsters the pride of a kingdom
I walk, unaware of the stranger others see, Afraid that the wall between the worlds could grow too thin Uncertain, when the wall crumbles, which world will claim me. Dragon I am, but Pony am I as well. Mystery, paradox, and conundrum intermingled and fused To form a living specter
Yet, I am not afraid of the stranger within. I know where I belong Beside the mare who raised me as her own In Ponyville where we made our home. With my family and friends, I no longer ghost But live as a curious creature in a curious world.
Choose to fly. Choose to fall. Stand proud. Stand sprawled on the ground, choose to stop or crawl to a world uncertain or a world you know. Melt like ice, but shine like snow. Take the step to fall or soar You’ll be ready. For a step more.
My hero isn’t Saddle Rager She can crush mountains with a single hoof Overpower any foe Though her strength is mighty she isn’t my idol
My hero isn’t Daring Doo The brave explorer can save the world countless times Discover treasures lost to time But she just isn’t mine
My hero isn’t Starswirl His magic was unparalleled His legend is eternal But he could never measure up.
No, my hero is a purple mare She is truly powerful She saved Equestria countless times She built a legacy that will never be matched
Raised a dragon on her own Taught him to walk, to talk, to love Gave him a home when he had none Fed him, taught him, humored him Welcomed him to her home like family
She is light, sometimes too blinding to look at. Being by her side every day warms my heart As she overcomes any obstacle And brings me through the storm
Her frame is the first in my mind when I think of heroes For her brilliance strengthens me, inspires me Every time she outshines the sun.
Sapphires are dim when faced with the blue luster of her eyes Tapestries of nature wilt in the face of her purple locks Smooth river rocks are rough when faced with her unblemished hooves Crystal snow becomes mud in the face of her pearly fur Gentle sway of lilies on a pond, cumbersome when faced with her delicate lips But her smile, her smile illuminates the world beyond the sun’s powers
Flower petals envy the flutter of her brow Rivers yearn for the sonorous melody of her voice Clouds wonder how this heavenly creature fell to the lowly earth The seasons pass, wishing to spend their lives with her
To caress the lily too perfect for nature To feel her being surrounding them To return to her, where they know they belong
That is the maiden whose beauty surpasses nature That is the song of my heart That is the glory that only comes once in a lifetime
What do I say about the mare who saved me? Do I say she is selfless, loyal, and kind? Do I say she is strong, unflagging, and tough?
Do I reach down to pull up the boulder that all of Ponyville rests on? Do I present her as a dear friend when she’s so much more than words can describe?
Is there another who does so much for every pony and never asks for more? Is there another who treats me with such respect? Is there another who keeps her friends together in times of trial? What do I say about the sun that shines on all of us?
Thank you. You, who always treated me with kindness, You, who saved my life, You, who shows us that family is any pony who treats you like family.
When I think of Starlight, I don’t think of the villain who hurt us because that’s not her When I think of Starlight, I don’t think of Twilight’s new pupil because she’s so much more
When I think of Starlight, I think of the mare who’s come through so much The mare who learned friendship The mare who saved us from disaster The mare who proves anyone can overcome the darkness The mare who can stand side by side with Starswirl the Bearded
The mare who I call my friend The mare who calls me family The mare who triumphs
And I can only stare below her mountain As she breaks through the sky and brings us the sun As she descends from the mountain To share her light with me
I don’t have many friends my age, who would treat me like a fellow kid But I have Sweetie Belle
I don’t have many mares who would dance with me when no pony else would But I have Sweetie Belle
I don’t have the mare friend who I’ve wanted for years and years But I have Sweetie Belle
I don’t have an idea who I am or what I’m supposed to be But I have Sweetie Belle
Her melody is the song that harmonizes with my joy and my identity Her games are the one thing that will never make me frown Her smile makes my sun rise every morning Her life makes mine beautiful
I believe in you I believe you will fly I believe you will ascend to the sky I believe you will soar to the heavens I believe you will surpass even Rainbow Dash
I believe that the strongest steel is tempered in the hottest flames That bending, melting, grinding will make steel unyielding That steel will be impenetrable as it cleaves the clouds That steel will make others stronger.
I know you will never stop reaching for your dreams And knowing that I will never stop reaching for the skies To race you across the wind into legend
The sky wields a scepter and broad wings She is gentle and kind, humble and noble She commands an army of fire kings She loathes the unjust and ignoble
The sky brought fire kings closer to ponies She tames wild, intractable beasts She owns her title without ceremonies Her greatness, I know, will never cease
The sky brought me closer to the noble and loyal She proved to me that fire kings are not cruel, not her not I She sits rightfully on her crown so royal And is more priceless and beautiful than any jewel, Queen of the Sky
You say you owe me for bringing you friends But the truth is I owe you everything, my dear friend.
I owe you for saving me I owe you for putting my fame before our friendship I owe you for saving me after I betrayed you Above all, I owe you for reminding me what friendship really means.
Friendship has no boundaries. Differences like ours can’t stop its magic Pony, Dragon, Zebra, or Changeling are capable of friendship and capable of love
When we try to control friendship, try to say who’s a friend or foe that is when we lose sight of who matters, of ourselves. I am no hero. You’re the hero, who teaches everyone that friendship and love are clouds and sun No one can stop the showers on the land, giving life to the world. The sun will never cease its rays and leave our hearts cold.
No, the sun, the rain, the wind, the snow cannot be stopped. Friendship does not stop because you’re a Changeling or I’m a Dragon. Love breaks through our hearts and sets us right. True heroes keep friendship standing through any storm, through the shadows, and true heroes like you, teach me that friends would surrender an empire, to keep friendship blooming when all seems lost.
Your rain, your sun, your love, you make me strong, Thorax. Because our friendship is true.
You deserve so much more than a few measly words from me. You deserve ballads and sonnets that my hands could never compose.
How could I describe you? The first thing I ever saw The first family I ever knew The first hero I ever admired?
It’s impossible. Impossible to explain how a fire can thaw the blackest night with ease Impossible to explain when eternity could ever begin or end Impossible to explain where a dragon born to ponies belongs in the world Impossible to explain who could be everything that dragon needed Impossible to explain why a goddess loves a mortal dragon like her dearest son or brother
You surpassed hero to me. You’re my everything. If I am strong, your strength is a mountain If I am smart, your smart is the cosmos in its infinite wonders If I am tough, you are an unbreakable diamond If I know love, you dressed me in garments of affection and showered me in treasures.
Treasures, that I will horde jealously, of my every memory of you Treasures of you feeding me gems by a spoon Treasures of you guiding my first step, my first word Treasures of you giving me a name, a purpose, a home Treasures of you ascending to alicorn Treasures of your smile.
Fears of my identity, of my parentage, of my destiny flow down the calm river and melt into the water when I feel you By my side, holding me, lifting me past the stars as you transcend the forever.
I will do my part and be the firewood of your mighty spark The clouds of your brilliant lightning and deafening winds The soil of your cherry blossom that rains glory across the earth
As you reach greater heights and greater heights still, Know that I will follow you to the forever and stay by your side forever.
To a pony, a volcano is a massive fire cauldron. To me, it’s just a hot tub. To a pony, a ruby is a priceless, crimson gem. To me, it’s just a snack. To a pony, fire is destructive and intractable. To me, it’s just a breath. To a pony, friends enrich the currency of our lives. But to me, they give it beauty.
When I think of dad, of mom, my mind turns to draws a blank but turns where it has to spin and dizzy alone.
Shining Armor. He’s wrapping his hoof around me. He’s bringing me to the Hoofball Game. He’s showing me the Power Ponies. Twilight. She’s offering me gems. She’s teaching me to write. She’s kissing my scaly cheek.
He’s the coals I was tempered o’er set ablaze with his life sparks. She’s the smith who forged me with love.
One day, evil spoke to me. It said lovely weather we’re having today. I nodded and went about my work. Another day, evil spoke to me. It said you know it’s all funny, isn’t it. I ignored him and reshelved the books. A third day, evil spoke to me. It said you really shouldn’t do this to yourself. I glared at him and covered my ears. A fourth day, evil spoke to me. It said wouldn’t you rather be free. I shook my head and looked away. A fifth day, evil spoke to me. It said I could give you your hearts desire. I threw back his key and cried. A sixth day, evil spoke to me. It said I’ll keep knocking as long as the door’s here. I didn’t know what to do.
The seventh day, evil looked into my eyes. He became my eyes. I closed them shut and never let him out. Until I learned he and I never spoke.
Morning has broken across the hills, but is still whole. Morning has relieved the light stars and weary moon. Morning has broken across the hills, and heads to the towns. Morning has started life anew. Given us purpose. Morning has done her miracle. Made us whole once again. And filled us with her life.
They found the muse and they caged her. They tied her to a chair in their dark lair. They ordered her to sing. They made her scream. They took her blood and drank it. They tried to make her song their own. They sometimes succeeded sometimes failed. They left the muse in a shower of blossoms, I released her to the air. I watched her meld to the wind and soar away past the valleys, past the hills, past the oceans, past the town, past present and future. History tells me we can’t keep her forever and she tells me that she will come again. We may harmonize a moment but that moment, Lives in eternity.
They come at me with night armor, with blades of war. I smile and to show them I’m friendly. They drew their shields like kites to brace for a furnace. I couldn’t release a puff at a living creature. Eyes glinting with adventure, with reckless daring, they charge. They bring their swords down on my scales.
I try to run but they have me by the tail. They strike again. I ask them why. It’s just the way things are they say. They want my treasures. I have none to give. They want my life. Were my role reversed, I would want, and in wanting would have many treasures. But I just want to be friends. Then you shouldn’t have been born a dragon.
A flash of violet light crumples the knights to dust. Purple embers scatter them. Mighty wrath flings them into the sky. She screams how dare you touch my treasure! They flee before my princess. She drives them off the world. Then returns to our castle. She tends to my wounds. I praise her for her noble actions. She just hugs me. And cries with joy.
You are no monster. They who slash your hide are the monsters. They who threaten you threaten me. You are my most precious diamond, and I will guard you jealously. She sets me on a throne and dresses my scales with robes. Together, we change the story to our truly priceless treasures, to our heart’s tale.
I gaze into the void, snowy with emptiness. It sneers at me as I try to fill it. It consumes my every word and reflects it back. With a sad farewell, my words fall into the void, which renews itself. Another blank void, another world to write, another civilization to crumble, another moment of art seeps into the void. It hungers. It wants my life in words. I can’t help but give it everything in hopes to turn this to a war of attrition, to fill it forever I give my heart. But it’s never satiated. It’s better this way. I never knew how my life words can fill the void if only a moment, I could never grasp how deep, how vivid, my heart runs
Twilight Velvet and Nightlight, Parents of Twilight Sparkle and Shining Armor
Who forged the mountains, who tilled the lands? Arcane magic reached into the abyss, and formed the world I call home. A touch made the soil, the mountains, and filled the world with treasures. If the mountain is gentle and powerful and steadfast, then the being who built him must be nobler than a royal knight. If the earth is kind and loving and wise, then the being who nurtured her must be benevolent beyond measure. What being made the mountains so knightly, what inspired him to protect life? What being made the land so rich, what inspired her to pursue knowledge?
I tell you, not one but two beings crafted the mountains and tended to the soil. Two beings crafted the mountain and the land and molded them like clay, Groomed them into titans, into champions of life. As my gifts are her gifts and my gifts are his gifts, so their gifts are his gifts so their gifts are her gifts. Thus, my gifts come from them, the beings who forged the mountains tall who made the land nourishing. They who made the mountains and the land. They created my world.
We all need some chaos. What’s the fun in going through life without a detour or two? We all need some zany. Discord gives plenty of that in his chocolate rain stew.
So let’s get crazy, let’s forget the rules about this and that and what and how and oh my this is scary just how crazy we can be making pink sand castles and ballet buffaloes and live action roleplaying with real foes and friends kazooing together with a laugh and a squeal of delight to lose oneself in revelry of disorder and never be blue because things never get boring with lil’ ol Discord, you might not be orderly but I don’t mind because rules are fun to bend and because, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you are my friend.
When the day’s done, we can sit back a while. We can watch the cotton candy clouds fly past the horizon into the sunset. When night falls, we’ll tuck ourselves in. We can dream of the fun we had as we fall sleep and deep beneath.
Then straight back, to the realm of boundless mischief and eternal play with no rules, no worries, no night or day where all run wild and free in the cosmos, and we see life is tough, life can feel dreary, life can be tragic but with Discord, there’s never a moment that isn’t magic
A gentle pony, a kind dragon, should never be angered.
Karma punishes often and rewards only lightly.
It might not seem like it, but everything will work out in the end. So don’t worry about a problem in the present It’s future you’s problem.
You can’t spell family without an m and a y which together make my.
Just because some one writes a phrase wisely, doesn’t make them wise. If some one tries to capture timeless wisdom, they might find themselves disappointed. If some one offers their life experiences and learns from everything they’ve done, then maybe they’re on the right track.
You can feel greed and envy. Just don’t act on them.
You can’t make everyone happy, but you can please yourself.
Family means a lot more than mom and dad. Family is any one who cares about you.
You define who you are. Not your species, not your peers, not society, nobody but you.
A year ago, I entered a new world A year ago, I knew exactly what I wanted to be A year ago, I found that I was alone A year ago, I learned that nobody thought I was any good A year ago, I felt empty A year ago, I almost ended it
So why do I have another year? Because, I kept dreaming about possible adventures for you Because, I kept wondering when you’d get the spotlight Because, I wanted to give you a spotlight Because, I found a new purpose
I wrote. I wrote about you and Twilight and all of your friends I wrote how you went to look for your family but found it in front of you. And learned that you are never alone. I wrote how you helped Scootaloo fly. How seeing her dreams come true made you know that yours would too. I wrote how you needed your friends and your world darkened without them. I learned how words can flow from me like a river when you are the river water. I wrote how an amythyst before bed gave you insane dreams. That might be an adventure best not mentioned. I wrote how Twilight defended you from scientists who wanted to use you, and I found that people loved to read what I wrote. I found that asking for help makes me better. And that friendship and forgiveness are magic. I wrote how you survived a world of monsters and came back home and healed. I learned how to create a world and a layered story. I wrote how Garble and Diamond Tiara fulfilled your expectations. Yet another journey perhaps better not mentioned. I wrote how Garble’s schemes could never overcome your wit and courage. I wrote how you and Twilight will never grow apart even as you grow up.
And now, I write this poem to say
You, Spike the dragon, you saved my life. You gave me a reason to continue. You became a vessel to my visions. You endowed me with tools of expression. You are my muse. You inspire me like nobody else can. You brought me back from the brink, not with your might, but with your existence, with your character.
I hope you can forgive me for any pain I put you through, for any pain we put you through. Know that you will always have a light at the end of the tunnel, and that light will lead you back to your friends, to your family.
Amidst those ponies, those dragons, those griffons, those changelings, look closely and you will see me, cheering you on with all my breath.
You’re more than a baby dragon, Spike. You’re a champion.
Nobody else could bring me back from the abyss Nothing else could have imbued me with such purpose Nowhere else have I found the pleasure writing your stories gives me And never believe you are alone or unloved.
Because, Although we have never met face-to-face I know you and you know me. Although we have never shared a conversation I consider you a dear friend. Although our paths may never cross You are never far from me. Because, You are my inspiration. You are my hope. You are my brother.
Thank you, Spike. Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for letting me sing your life in my words. Thank you for giving me a reason to continue into the unknown. Thank you for making me a brony.
Until we go on our next adventure Know that I will keep you in my heart. Always. And should we venture no more, Should I create my own world, Should my hand stop writing, The lessons you’ve taught me will stay The person you are will remain And the spark you ignited in my soul will live for eternity.
As will you, the greatest dragon, the greatest assistant the greatest friend, the greatest brother, the greatest hero, the greatest Greatest Fire to ever burn On the torch of harmony.
Twilight looked through her library books, hoping she might find one book she had not read in the last five months. She already knew she read most of these books twice, but she held out hope that some book could entertain her. The sun cast shadows through her castle windows as it set. Her head thrummed as she glanced through several titles. After picking out three novels, she headed to the living room.
She set her books down on a table when she noticed a brown covered journal on the countertop. Curious, she picked it up and opened the cover. She recognized Spike’s handwriting before she read the title “The Spike Poem Anthology.”
“Is this what you’ve been doing while I was away?” Twilight murmured with amusement. She tried to put the book down. This was Spike’s property after all. She had no right to look at it unless he let her. Even as she said this, temptation got the better of her and she flipped to the first page.
Rainbow Dash considered knocking on the door for a moment. She really did. But she could fly in whenever she wanted. And she wanted to fly in. Twilight had the next Daring Doo book and Dash wasn’t waiting another second. In her defense, Twilight had only herself to blame for leaving the window open. She spread her wings and soared through the air into an open window.
“Twilight!” She yelled. She zoomed through the castle and yelled, “Hey, Twilight! I’m here for the next Daring Doo Book. Where are you?”
Dash found Twilight in the living room. She was about to call her name when she noticed tears rolling down Twilight’s face. She seemed invested in a small journal in front of her. Dash took a tentative step towards her.
“Twilight,” she said, “Are you okay?” Twilight looked up and wiped her eyes. A smile plastered her face.
“I’m fine, Dash.” She said. “I was just reading some poetry Spike wrote about me.”
“Uh neat,” Dash said. “So any chance I could get the next Daring Doo Book?”
“Wait, you’ve got to read this one poem—”
“No offense,” Dash said, “but I’m not really into poetry.”
“Spike wrote about you.”
Dash blinked. “He wrote about me?” She shuffled her hooves, “No pony’s ever written poems about me before.”
Whether by word of mouth or quick talk, soon almost every pony who was a subject of Spike’s poems gathered in the castle. Even Discord showed up to read his poem. Twilight could have sworn he was fighting back a tear just at the thought of being included. She let tears fall down her face without shame. She couldn’t believe Spike wrote more poems about her than Rarity, than anyone else. He put her on a pedestal so high she couldn’t see where it ended.
As she passed around the journal, she noticed Rarity’s eyes lighting with stars as she read Spike’s poem. Pinkie Pie tried putting her poem to music. Twilight cast a spell to mute her kazoo and saxophone to everyone else. Fluttershy would not stop sniffling, long after the journal past her.
“Spike thinks I’m faster than a comet,” Dash smirked.
“He thinks I’m the rock all of Ponyville sits on,” Applejack grinned. “I ain’t no poet but that’s a compliment if I ever saw one.”
Starlight began crying, “I didn’t know how much I needed that.” She wiped her eyes and smiled as she passed the book to Twilight.
“So when do we get to my poem?” Discord said. He folded his arms and looked away, “Not that I’m interested or anything. I’m just curious.”
“We’ll get there,” Twilight said. “First, the CMC get to read their poems.”
“Spike wrote about us?” Applebloom asked. She passed the journal to the yellow filly who seized the page and read as Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle crowded over her shoulders.
“So where is Spike right now?” Applejack asked.
“He went to Canterlot,” Twilight said. “He had some duties to attend to.”
“Well, when he gets back I’ll fix him a nice mug of apple cider,” the earth pony grinned. “I’m sure Big Mac would love to watch a Hoof Ball Game with him.” She turned to her brother who nodded.
“I’m taking him flying,” Dash said.
“I just want to hug him and never let go,” Fluttershy smiled.
“I call dibs,” Sweetie belted out. “Any guy who calls me a song that makes life beautiful is getting a hug.”
“Yes, that’s all very good,” Discord said. “Can I read my poem now?”
“I thought you didn’t care?” Dash elbowed his side teasingly.
“As if I’d care what someone else wrote about me,” Discord rolled his eyes. “I just want to see what Twilight’s number one butler considers poetry.”
“Hang on it’s Big Mac’s turn,” Twilight said. Rarity was unusually silent. Her white face flushed crimson.
“Eeyup,” Big Mac smiled before passing the journal to Discord. He glanced at the journal with an uninterested glance.
“Well, if I must,” he said snatching up the journal. Glasses materialized on the tip of his snout. A cushioned chair appeared behind him. Discord wore a red bathrobe initialed D. To complete the scene, he blew bubbles from a pipe in his mouth.
“When that sucker gets home, he’s getting the biggest party he’s ever seen!” Pinkie Pie belted. “Once I work out this didgeridoo solo.” With that, the pink pony pulled a meter long cylindrical wooden pipe from her mane and began piping.
“Are you sure that’s not a weapon?” Scootaloo eyed the long stick.
“What? You’ve never seen a didgeridoo?” Pinkie Pie raised an eyebrow. The orange filly shook her head. “Come one, Scoots. Every pony knows about the didgeridoo. I’ve got to play Spike some didgeridoo. Nothing but the best for my family.”
“It sure is an eye opener,” Starlight changed the conversation subject, “seeing just how much Spike considers us family.”
“Yeah,” Twilight said. “Poetry reveals what’s really in our hearts. So all of this is coming from a real place of feeling.”
“Wow,” Discord said. He was definitely tearing up as he read the last words. He pursed his lips and inhaled through his nostrils, sucking back his tears. “I didn’t know he cared so much.” After a moment, Discord rose from his chair, “Alright, I’m poofing Spike back right now. He’s getting chocolate rain clouds.”
“But I haven’t finished practicing my didgeridoo solo,” Pinkie pouted.
Discord snapped his fingers and a white light appeared in the center of the room. When it faded, a very confused baby dragon stood in the center of the room. His scales glistened with water, a shower cap on his head and a towel wrapped around his waist as he held a cordless hairdryer.
One look around and he turned a bright red, before rushing upstairs and slamming a door. His friends averted their gaze from the place he emerged. Discord shrugged sheepishly as Twilight cast him an admonishing stare. Rarity tapped a hoof on the floor as her eyes darted around the room and she hummed a soft song. Sweetie Belle had a crimson blush on her cheeks and kept staring where Spike had left. The rest of them endured the long, uncomfortable silence.
Ten minutes later, Spike returned downstairs. His shower cap and bath robe were gone and his scales had dried. He put his hands on his hips and frowned.
“Alright,” he said, “who decided to poof me away from Canterlot in the middle of a shower?” He looked at Pinkie Pie honking on a meter long stick. He blinked and said, “I’m not even going to ask.”
Before Twilight could say a word, he noticed his brown journal lying in the center of the room. Spike looked from the journal to Twilight, his eyes widening.
“Oh no,” he groaned, “You didn’t read that, did you? I was saving it for our anniversary.”
“Anniversary?” Twilight said, “What are you talking about?”
“Four years in Ponyville.” Spike shook his head. “Now what am I going to do?”
“Wait, if you wanted this to be a surprise, why did you leave it out in the open?”
“I was still working on it.” Spike shrugged, “I guess I forgot to pack it before I went to Canterlot. Well, did you like them anyways?”
Twilight walked up the stairs to Spike. She opened her mouth to say yes, that they were the most wonderful, thoughtful things he ever made for her. But that didn’t seem adequate. Words just couldn’t suffice. She squeezed him in a hug. Spike stiffened in surprise before smiling and hugging her back.
“Hope you aren’t going to hog him all day,” Sweetie Belle grumbled. Rarity shot her a chiding glance. Spike blinked in Sweetie’s direction at them and broke away from Twilight. He noticed the ponies who were subjects of his poems had gathered in the castle, even Discord. Each of them looked at him with warm smiles.
“Wait, did everyone read the poems?” He asked. Several nodding heads confirmed his suspicions. He glanced at Rarity who fiddled with her hooves and looked away. A magic ripped him from the floor into disproportioned arms that held him in place and noogied him with a chuckle.
“Discord, I can’t breathe,” Spike gasped. The spirit of chaos dropped him to the floor. A white filly pounced on him pressing her face against his cheek.
“Thanks for writing a poem all about me, Spikey,” Sweetie cooed. Each of his friends said their thanks to Spike in their own ways. This included more hugs from Starlight and Fluttershy, pats on the shoulders from Applejack, tossing him into the air in Dash’s case, a polite nod from Big Mac, a deep bumblebee buzzing from Pinkie Pie’s stick pipe, and a kiss on the cheek from Rarity. Spike blushed. He wasn’t used to being at the center of attention, but he sure enjoyed when he was.
When the revelry finally simmered down, Twilight approached him with the journal in hand.
“I did have one question,” Twilight said, “Who were you pretending to be when you wrote your last poem?”
“You mean ‘Proverbs of Spike’?”
“No,” Twilight flipped open the journal to the last poem. “I meant in ‘My Poem to Spike.’”
Spike narrowed his eyes, “Wait, let me see that.” He plucked the journal from her magic and looked at the page. “‘My Poem to Spike?’ I didn’t write this.”
Twilight frowned, “But it was in your journal.”
“I’ve never seen this before,” Spike said. “The last poem I wrote was ‘Proverbs of Spike.’ Whoever wrote this, it wasn’t me.” The others gathered around with interest. Spike flipped to the last page and found a name, “Who is Zephyr Spark?”
“You don’t know him?” Twilight asked. Spike shook his head. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Spike said.
“Let me see that a moment,” Discord picked up the journal. He snapped his fingers and materialized a lab coat and spectacles. He placed the pages under a microscope and peered through the lenses.
“What do you see?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“Nothing, the lens cap is still on,” He said before bending down and plucking off a bottle cap from the viewing lens. He put a finger in the center of the cap and drew out a bottle of soda from the bottle cap. “Now where will I put this bottle cap?” He mused before popping off the cap to the floor and guzzling down the soda. Fluttershy gave him a single look. “Yes, I know. I’ll pick up.” Discord snapped his fingers materialized a trash can and dumped the bottle and cap before turning back to the microscope. “Now let’s see.”
He made several loud hmms and scratched his chin. If he found something interesting, he would not say a word about it. Twilight was sure he wanted to keep everyone in suspense. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her vexed.
“Well, I’m stumped,” he said at last before throwing his microscope out the window. They heard clunks from outside accompanied by a screeching cat and Fluttershy pouted once again at Discord. The spirit of chaos shrunk a bit and apologized. He turned to Twilight, “Whoever wrote this didn’t come from this world.”
“What do you mean?” Rarity said.
“I’m pretty sure this is the only world,” Starlight said.
“Not exactly,” Twilight said. Starlight glanced at her quizzically. Twilight shrugged, “It’s a long story.”
“I can’t pinpoint where exactly this came from,” Discord said. “But it’s not a world I’m familiar with. Whoever wrote this must have intended it for Spike.”
“Oh, I know,” Pinkie Pie raised her hoof. “It was probably that world full of those things Lyra’s always talking about! I see them all the time.”
“Well, whoever Zephyr Spark is,” Twilight said, “He really admires you, Spike. He poured his heart and soul into this.”
“Can I read it?” Spike asked. Discord handed him the journal and Spike read. His lips began to tremble. “I don’t know what a lot of this means, but,” he smiled, “I feel like I know him.” He lingered on the final words. Silence filled the room. After a good five minutes, Spike spoke.
“I’ve got to write more poems.” He grabbed a pen, “Maybe he’ll send me another message. Or maybe we can meet face to face.”
Once upon a time, in a mining town there lived a young man named Holt. He had a good life with a loving family of many uncles, aunts, sisters, and grandparents who lived together and shared everything they had. At night, they would share a family meal, bowing their heads in prayer. Yet, Holt was unhappy. Everyday he saw the wealthy merchants parade across the street, dressed in the finest velvet and silk bluer than the sky. They forced his fathers and grandfathers to work in the mine. They would spend days at a time, digging out any valuable gemstones that went directly to the merchants. Certainly, the merchants would give them time for holidays and provide them with food, but only because the king made laws to ensure they would protect their workers. One day, Holt approached his father and asked how one could avoid working in the mines. His father refused to answer, but after months of pesterings he gave an answer.
“One would have to throw away his own life and enter the mines at night. Only then would he find the power to command his own fate. But oh, my son, are you not happy as you are? We have little, but we love one another. Those merchants may have our wealth, but they do not have family.”
“But they reap the benefits of our labor. Why should they who do nothing, earn what we dig up by our own hands?”
“Don’t seek to be like them. Wealth cannot love you, and though it may buy workers, it cannot buy love.”
Determined to find his fortune, Holt ignored his father’s warning. He was nearly at that age to be sent into the mines. He saw how it broke backs and dirtied lungs. His heart wretched at the sight of such broken men, and refused to submit. So that night, when his family slept, he snuck from the bed towards the door and headed to the mines. Carefully, he snuck past the sentries stationed to guard the cave and made his way into the darkness.
He lit a torch, illuminating the granite walls surrounding him and went down the tunnels, desperate to find power to change his fate. After walking through miles of tunnels, he found a blue gemstone. It was a sliver, no bigger than his pinkie. When he picked it up and held it to his eye, he could see a trail of light extending from top of the cave.
“How curious.” He said. “Perhaps this light will lead to the power to change my fate.”
He followed the light through the mine, descending deeper than any man dare go. Soon, the light led him to caves with walls bluer than the skies. The rocks burst with light, as though illuminated with a torch. When he looked through the stone again, Holt saw the trail of light grow thicker, and denser. Bits of the light seemed to drip onto the floor and melt into gas.
He followed the light further; going so deep into the caves he could scarcely breathe. At last, he came to a chamber larger than his own house. The entire chamber was lined with blue crystals. On the walls, he could see portraits made entirely of gemstones, holding the faces of ancient rulers. He could read words engraved in the crystal ceiling: That rich thing will change your fate. At the center of the cave, sat a pale man. He wore no shirt and had grey hair trailing all the way down his back across the cave floor. He was paler than a skeleton. His skin clung tightly to his bones. His back was turned, so Holt could not see his face.
He came closer to the man, deciding to sit beside him. Long grey locks completely covered the man’s face, hiding his eyes and skeletal jaw.
“I want to change my fate,” Holt declared. “I don’t want to work in the mines. I want to be rich like the merchants. Can you help me, stranger?”
The stranger’s skeletal jaw creaked open.
Beware, beware the unfettered greed.
It is the most lethal of weeds—It chokes and devours.
The monster sullies the world, strangles the patches of flowers
One cannot love such greed and love mankind
In worshipping such greed, one goes blind.
“I won’t. I’ll help my fellow workers. I just don’t want to work in the mines.”
The skeletal figure’s face turned towards Holt. The man’s long hairs reared up like a thousand hissing serpents and wrapped around the boy. Now Holt could see the man’s face. Where his eyes should have been, there were sockets with two gems bluer than the sky. The grey hairs seized Holt, wrapping across his body, covering him like a mummy. He was so frightened he fainted.
Holt woke up in a granite chamber surrounded by treasures beyond his comprehension, capable of buying the town twenty times. The skeletal man and the blue gemstone cave were gone. Deeply embedded in his palm, was a royal blue gemstone.
“Treasure will change my fate,” Holt said. He gathered up his treasure and left the mines.
He ran into the merchants as they paraded through the streets. They took notice of his immeasurable wealth and gawked.
“Young lad, where have you found so much treasure?”
“Deep in the caves, where no man dared to venture.”
So impressed by his bravery, they invited him to join them and become a merchant. Holt agreed and went to the merchant’s guild go learn their craft. With his vast wealth, he completely bought out the mine from the merchants. One of them tried to bring him to court for his treachery. When the merchant went to press charges, Holt raised his hand embedded with the gem. The merchant lost all power of speech and vanished from the judge’s eyes. Thus, Holt went on, unchallenged and the merchants were forced out of the town. For a time, he made sure the worker was provided for, receiving excellent food and reward for their work. Yet, he soon realized his kindness was costing him his wealth. Merchants running other mines found more treasure than him by cutting corners. So, he lowered the worker’s wages, and soon found a little more treasure in his coffers. He decreased their rations, and found more spare money in his coffers. Then, he doubled their workload and found more money in his coffers. When the workers complained about his abuses to the king, Holt raised his hand embedded with the blue gem. Like the merchant, the workers all lost their power of speech and vanished from the king’s eyes.
One day, he realized how lonely his mansion felt, and returned home to his family, hoping to invite them into his new house. When he returned to their hovel, his many uncles, aunts, sisters, and grandparents could no longer see him, or meet his eyes. Certainly, they might apologize if they bumped into him, but they no longer knew him as family. Now, he was a stranger.
“Don’t you recognize me? I’m your son, Holt.”
“I’ve had many sons, daughters, nephews, and nieces,” said his father. “But never have I known a son named Holt.”
“I’ve come to take you back, father. To bring all of you to my mansion so we can live comfortably with my riches.”
“Young lad, don’t you realize treasures don’t make life rich? When you die, your treasures won’t mourn you. The only way to change your fate is with that rich thing called charity.”
Holt sneered. “Fat lot of good charity did you. Rot away in this prison, but I will never return to poverty.”
For a time, he felt a twinge of guilt at the miners’ suffering, but he had no desire to become poor again. So, he increased the labor of the miners, forcing them to work for weeks on end with little pay and destroying their holidays. He forced them to buy their own food from him, taking back the little wages they earned. In time, he forgot about ever being poor. In time, he even forgot his own father. He became known as the most reviled man in the country, cruelly forcing the miners to dig up the earth for him and refusing to release them until they returned with mountains of gems. Their complaints never reached his ears, when he could simply raise his hand and silence even the king. Soon, even the king’s voice was replaced entirely with the sound of blue gems, the call to mining.
These days, Holt can no longer see human beings. His vision now only allows blue gemstones. He has gone all but blind in his pursuit of wealth.