‘feə.ri.teIl

‘feə.ri.teIl

Many of us read Tales of Old
Hoping that our lives would be as Fairy Tales are...
We need them for hope that we too
Will be granted
Our Fabled
Endings...
That we would find
Our Glass Slippers
And Charming Princes...
That we would live in
Beautiful Castles
And be waited upon by
Servants...

We read these tales with the Need and Desire
To Believe that we would find
Our Saviors...
That we would have our own Fairy Godmother
To bring us to the ball...
That our seven friends would always be there to rescue us
In times of great need...
Or a Prince who will kiss us back to life...

But most importantly, we indulge in these tales
Because deep inside, we crave for
Justice and
Vengeance...
We hope that our Nemesis and Villains
Will be punished in the end...
We secretly hope that our stepsisters would gouge out their eyes...
We secretly hope that our evil mothers would be made
To dance in Red Hot Iron shoes till she be dead...
We secretly ope that our witches will be baked alive in an oven...

We al crave for the fantasy of
Fables and
Fairy Tales...
We read them with hope that we too
Will live
Happily Ever After
After years of crwling in
Soot,
Cinder
And Ash...
We read them with hope that we too
Will have our own
Deus Ex Machina
To save us...
But most of all,
We read them with hope that we too
Will witness
The Torture,
The Pain,
The Demise,
And The Death of
Witches,
Stepmothers,
Wolves,
Our Villains...


But what we forget to consider
Is that maybe,
Just maybe,
We are the
Villains of the Tales...