Chapter Ninety Seven: Verses, Verses, Verses

"For fifty-three years, Christmas has brought

me nothing but misery. I know just what to do.

I become Santa Claus to steal their Christmas.

If he could deliver it one night,

then I can steal it."

Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas

EeE

Christmas comes, Christmas goes

A spirit full of madness eventually flows

The Elven kind assisting more

In magic, transfiguration resolves

Truly, deeply

A dream most noble

Will find itself in devotion

That while the world is cruel

And nobody cares

Those who hope in Christmas

Will hear the magical sleighs

Beneath a caring heart

It grows into maturity

And the children remains a child

The magic becomes a soul

By listening to the sound

In discouragement, man decides to hope

He uses words to keep his patience afloat

But to kill the dream

He becomes emptied of faith

In relying with magic

The Yuletide effect begins

The dream becomes resuscitated

Transformed as eternal

In noble words

Fantasy is created

By the power of the rhymes

The world becomes real

Sufficiently transfigured, yet uninformed

But the process was there

Consummated in effect

While the magic begins

The decibels supply in between

Involuntary, the madness sways

Everything that is nice is paired

By magical sounds, of songs

Or the utility of weapons

The Darkened Fractals of night

Neither is actually fine

But to preserve the wise

A war with evil must become

Trying

Fighting

Believing

To die

With faith, hope, and love

By the greatest conviction

Holiness starts

Noises of discouragenent

Of envy, jealousy prevails

In all wishes

One wanted revenge

But humanity shall never fall

Creation is in depthness of mercy

Where ultimate goodness

Eventually is conserved

With voices like bullets

Oh, ignorance

It is sharp like a knife

It attacks the willful dreams

By which in Christmas is desired

The magical realm then traverses

The road to the many dreams

While the Little Drummer Boys

Parade with their sticks

As tunnels are made

And concrete pavement appears

Convenience is at the helm:

To navigate the paths

From perilous conditions

Of the many crucial might

At the other side of the East

Banking in silence, existentially deep

One cannot sink in utter defeat

For faith becomes the basis of life

The anchor of joy it becomes

To motivate the act of dreaming 

Even more with fire

And as the mind tend to imagine

These verses open the doors

Inviting, reeling for the best

Encouraging many reactions

From souls determined to quest

If Lore can be made

So shall it be pressed

In the pages of books

It stays with the ink

With its many plots

The madness still reins

For after awhile

The soul particularly blends

From its maker of the mind

Instrumental as love

And after a while

One cannot deny that life

Is as precious as love

When the song is correctly heard

In the beating of the drums

Possibilities eventually realized

Opportunities for hope

Then, sufficiently retire

Paid in full, renewed

And never to be fooled.

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This Chapter is made possible by Gucci.