I wrote this poem a couple years ago but it remains “close to my heart (or some similar, less sentimental expression).
(P. S. Today is Aragorn’s birthday! 🙂 Ahem.)
I wish that I was in a fairytale
And lived out adventures rare.
Whenever I read those fairytales
I wish that I were there!
A life laden with adventures –
That’s what my heart craves;
Living in wildernesses,
Creeping through dungeons and caves,
Climbing up mountains and towers,
Stealing through dragons’ lairs,
Wading through marshes and rivers,
Running up endless stairs,
Fleeing from all sorts of danger,
Bravely battling foes,
Trudging through forests and jungles,
Crawling through tunnels and holes.
I know that these things sound outlandish –
A dreary life so – who would choose?
A stable life safe in a home
Is such a misfortune to lose.
Then why does my heart so cry out?
And these things I still want to be?
Is it merely a wild, childish dream?
Will my wishes hold true to me?