Edit 3: Beginners

[alonso ramoran]

Beginners

Our feet are clumsy, borne on glitter glue
and sapped by views of vicious dragons made
from crayon wax, and we can't draw the blade
our feral God with strong conviction drew.
We flee and wander, lost and spellbound, through
the woods, disbanding slowly in the shade
of purple oaks and bushes. Though afraid,
we find adventure truest when we're new.

God hunches, groans, and gusts a golden veil
from off the footprints we have scoured for
then learned to step as one and trust our eyes.
We thwarted thieves, imbibed the blackest ale
with gnomes and ghostly knights, and now we soar,
on crayon dragonback, beyond the skies.

Edit 2: Beginners

Our feet are clumsy, borne on glitter glue
and sapped by views of vicious dragons made
from crayon wax, and we can't draw the blade
our feral god with strong conviction drew.
We flee and wander, lost and spellbound, through
the woods, disbanding slowly in the shade
of purple oaks and bushes. Though afraid,
we find adventure truest when we're new.

God hunches, groans, and gusts a golden veil
from off the footprints we've been searching for
to learn to step as one and trust our eyes.
We thwarted thieves, imbibed the blackest ale
with gnomes and ghostly knights, and now we soar,
on crayon dragonback, beyond the skies.


Edit 1: Beginners

Our feet are clumsy, borne on glitter glue
and sapped by views of vicious dragons made
from crayon wax, and we can't draw the blade
our feral god with strong conviction drew.
We flee and wander, lost and spellbound, through
the woods, disbanding slowly in the shade
of purple oaks and bushes. Though afraid,
this is adventure when it is most true.

God hunches, groans, and gusts a golden veil
off from our footprints, leading us to where
we learned to step as one and trust our eyes.
We thwarted thieves, imbibed the darkest ale
with gnomes and ghostly knights, and now we tear,
on crayon dragonback, beyond the skies.


Original: Beginners

Our feet are clumsy, borne on glitter glue
and sapped by views of vicious dragons made
from crayon wax, and we can't draw the blade
our feral god with strong conviction drew.
We flee and wander, lost and spellbound, through
the woods, disbanding slowly in the shade
of purple oaks and bushes. Though afraid,
this is adventure when it is most true.

God hunches, groans, and there’s a golden veil
blown from our footprints, leading us to where
we learned to step as one and trust our eyes.
We thwarted thieves, imbibed the finest ale
with gnomes and ghostly knights, and now we tear,
on crayon dragonback, beyond the skies.