The doll, her cloak, and her mask

All that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.

-Edgar Allen Poe

The Doll, her cloak, and her mask

The doll looked about it.

Before it was green clock tower, tilted and glass-like though the true material of which it was made is unknown.

It was surrounded by the checkered trees of yellow and green bark, and the fatal glass leaves.

The reflection of the moons made the leaves glow white and silver.

The onslaught of light hurt the doll but did not touch its face for the doll wore a cloak of ice and a mask of steal.

The mask was fashioned to look like a human face though the beauty of it was ungodly.

The mask, cleverly built and ingeniously painted, was sealed at the seams and left no room for doubt that it was the true face.

No one could see the doll’s real face.

No on had ever seen the doll’s true face, but one.

Only one…

The cloak of ice was hand woven, made of Fire and Night.

The cloak created to simply hide and protect.

The fire burned the touch of an enemy and the night hide the wearer from sight, letting them take the form of shadows.

This cloak, this fire, this night was as cold, pure, and white as ice for that is the way of evil.

It hides behind the mask of purity, cloaked in the color of light( the skin of lambs), lighting the way through heroes’ dreams, burrowing deep in the old heart , spreading disease through sweet words, candy-coated lies, and using the black heart of desire to pull them up by strings and ropes and chains for power, love, attention, and family.

Evil abuses the things that the hearts of mortal beings long for…

It buries its parasitic being in the prizes that feed your sense of being and purpose. Do you wish to be a hero?

Do you dream?

Author's Note

' I started this before reading narnia or what ever the name of that series is'