Poetry

The Fae,
are what they are.
They make no qualms about it,
they do not try to be anything
other than what they are.
If they are cruel,
they are cruel.
If they are a devoted lover,
a sybarite,
they are at peace with it
and celebrate it.
If they belong to the Court of Shadows,
they relish in the baser emotions:
lust, violence, pain, war, etc.
To the Summer Court,
they revel in dance,
frivolty, impulses.
To the Winter Court,
they enjoy the snow,
the cold, and the slow dying of the earth.
To the High Court,
they follow logic, reason,
stasis.
The Fae
have no gender preference
when it comes to who they love.

Why should we humans
be any different?
Isn't so much harder
to deny ourselves of what we are?
You cannot eviscerate essential self.
You deny what you are,
and you lose yourself.
Is that any way to live?