The Dichotomy of a Fairytale

The fairytale’s stars shine their lights, and amidst the black sky appear magical and bright. But behind every tale lies a secret, and its darkness will be revealed if you don’t keep it. Those twinkling lights shimmering in the sky are actually the fiery, frightening flames of a lie.

The sea appears calm as the waves lift and soar, with its blue and green colors glistening upon the shore. But the sea’s beauty shines only on the surface, the violent sea threatens to kill you on purpose. Its strength and ferocity hide as never before, its voice is a lion you can hear it roar.

There is a special magic like no other, in the soft, whispering voice of your mother. Telling you stories of mermaids and enchanted shells, her voice dancing across the room like tiny little bells. While the monsters are kept unspoken, hidden and slayed by a heroine with a magic golden token.

But what happens when your childhood fairytale turns black and gray? The monsters under your bed creep around like a tiger approaching its prey. No one is there to protect you like when you were three, Amidst the fear and darkness, you fight your way back to that magic sea. Back to Neverland is the hope you hold, to the days when monsters and demons were only a story to be told.

Oh, fairytale for now, I have shown you my fears. Oh, fairytale I hope the light shining within you will once again appear. Oh, fairytale I send you, my love!

Oh, fairytale my memories of you are more peaceful than a white dove. Oh, fairytale I wish for life’s colors to come flooding back, Oh, fairytale the nightmare will be over, and the sky won’t just be black.

I will picture the sky bright with stars, the warm wind blowing upon my face and soothing my scars.

I will picture the mermaid swimming in the ocean, with her flowing blonde hair and her red dress in slow motion.

I will picture my fears and worries vanishing in the wind. All the safe, happy memories of my childhood flooding back in. Molly Minnich ‘25

We recognize the endless drought, But politicians fill us with constant doubt. The cloud of the future looms over us.

Why is it something we fail to discuss?

The waves grew, grew, and grew, But what will it pursue?

The water is as clear as day, But will the sea send it away?

The water crashes like the closing of a door, We pray the water will never pour. The water is far but inching near. No one cares; that is what we fear.

The worldwide water will wash away, Or will we wait for our bodies to decay?

Will the constant silence, Become violence?

When will we sprout?

When will the world begin to shout?

When will we begin to demand?

When will the world become only land?