The Elven Princesss was not in a rage;
She’d passed rage a week ago.
And everyone who saw her
Knew there was something bleak to go.
She got to that place where everyone
Called her overweight Greedy.
She was sefl-sufficient, and not the least bit needy.
Most animals are protected. Most sentients. True.
I look at me. You look at you.
We catch and eat these awful things
And we’ll unpleasantly leave the earth
Long green hair, and silver-skull rings.
I don’t get it. They used to make merry
In the lovely cemetery.
Now they’re acting like life eternal
Was invested, not by us, but by someone infernal.
Elves are beautiful. Elves are mystic.
Elves are addictively cannibalistic
And if around them a few weeks you waste…
You develop a taste.
There are restaurants (I am told)
Where the flesh I crave is sold.
But I’m terrified I’ll disappear
If I’m alone with no humans near.
If the Elves will eat each other
There’s a fear I cannot smother:
I am a thinker. An analyzer.
I don’t want to end up an appetizer.
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