PTP Name: Jupiter, the planet with the most moons
PTP Gender: Female
Sit on my knee and I tell you a story.
One of myths and snow and other strange things.
A tale that doesn't end in fame and glory.
Though in this story things are not as they seem.
Once long ago,
In a land full of snow
With trees stretching far and abroad
In a small town called spoon
In a land governed by the king of the moon
For the people the life was hard.
For the food rations where few and
The work was hard too
With hands all blistered and scarred
The sun never came up
So their crops where messed up
And the people where all on their guard.
A young snake slithered through the brush of a forest
As the birds above sang a sweet, lovely chorus
As she herd it she lifted her head
For the forest though dangerous
Was sweet and quite ageless
Made the most beautiful sounds to be said
And she traveled the ground
To the edge of the town
To find a few small crumbs
Everyone one was inside
But a young widow who cried
Her tears fell like the sound of drums
The village was cold
And the people grew old
And soon nothing wold be left
If some luck didn't come
By the power of the sun
To give them light and rest
So as she slithered,
And and her paint trail withered
Into the white and cold snow
She looked at the person
And could see the town worsen
And the wind it started to blow
What happened there after
Now promise no laughter
Was something no one could explain
For by the tears of her maybe
Who had one hungry baby
And the stare of a beautiful snake
Caused the sun there to rise
And all sorrow to die
And they both watched in curious pain
For, for years it was dark
But with one single spark
Of compassion they caused it to rain
For the sun now shown bright
In the dead of the night
And the crops began to grow
For the moon had gone
And and the sun now dawned
And the reign that ended of snow
Now for all the old men,
and the women and kid
Where finally able to eat
Now believe what you wish
Truth, or a tall tale to be squished
But it's a story that's hard to beat.
PTP Gender: Female
Sit on my knee and I tell you a story.
One of myths and snow and other strange things.
A tale that doesn't end in fame and glory.
Though in this story things are not as they seem.
Once long ago,
In a land full of snow
With trees stretching far and abroad
In a small town called spoon
In a land governed by the king of the moon
For the people the life was hard.
For the food rations where few and
The work was hard too
With hands all blistered and scarred
The sun never came up
So their crops where messed up
And the people where all on their guard.
A young snake slithered through the brush of a forest
As the birds above sang a sweet, lovely chorus
As she herd it she lifted her head
For the forest though dangerous
Was sweet and quite ageless
Made the most beautiful sounds to be said
And she traveled the ground
To the edge of the town
To find a few small crumbs
Everyone one was inside
But a young widow who cried
Her tears fell like the sound of drums
The village was cold
And the people grew old
And soon nothing wold be left
If some luck didn't come
By the power of the sun
To give them light and rest
So as she slithered,
And and her paint trail withered
Into the white and cold snow
She looked at the person
And could see the town worsen
And the wind it started to blow
What happened there after
Now promise no laughter
Was something no one could explain
For by the tears of her maybe
Who had one hungry baby
And the stare of a beautiful snake
Caused the sun there to rise
And all sorrow to die
And they both watched in curious pain
For, for years it was dark
But with one single spark
Of compassion they caused it to rain
For the sun now shown bright
In the dead of the night
And the crops began to grow
For the moon had gone
And and the sun now dawned
And the reign that ended of snow
Now for all the old men,
and the women and kid
Where finally able to eat
Now believe what you wish
Truth, or a tall tale to be squished
But it's a story that's hard to beat.
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