The Last Moonicorn, Part Four of Six
(a tale of dark whimsy, and pies)
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On Deimos,
the silvery Number Two Moon,
Two Moonicorns dance!
—Do they revel too soon?
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THE FOURTH SLICE
(in which sacrifices are made)
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But magical moments have tragical ends,
and the Star Girl reluctantly halted her friends:
‘Please forgive me, but sadly we’ve no time to waste.
The Martians will soon be refuelled—we’ll be chased.’
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The Moonicorn Mare looked forlorn, but stayed mute,
while the Moonicorn asked: ‘How much time, do you moot?’
And the Star Girl computed, with Newtonish sense,
‘An hour, maybe two,’ then looked pensively tense.
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‘We could run ...’ posed the Moonicorn, then shook his head.
‘No, they’d surely catch up; if we do that we’re dead,
and, in truth, there’s no space in the saucer for three.
Love, alas! Love, alack! I have led doom to thee!’
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But despair became steel in the Moonicorn’s frame,
and his horn shone with zeal, and his eyes shone the same.
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‘Oh, there is one last option,’ he whispered, quite hoarse,
‘But it’s terribly, terribly dangerous, of course.
The Martian’s horn sensor is tuned to find horns,
horns alone, not the bodies of whole Moonicorns.
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‘In your ship you could lead all the Martians astray,
with our horns as your bait, and then throw them away,
and destroy them somewhere, in the space between stars,
and the Martians would, meatless, fly back home to Mars.’
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As the creature’s suggestion sank into her head,
the Star Girl gasped: ‘But, without horns, you’d be dead!
For surely your horns can’t be taken alive?
Can an amputee Moonicorn ever survive?’
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‘There are tales,’ said the Moonicorn, shaking his mane,
‘Although most who survived went berserk or insane;
but what chance have we elsewise? The Martians are nigh;
I would rather risk all, than end up in a pie!’
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And the Moonicorn Mare clearly knew what he meant,
for she silently nodded her sombre assent.
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So, nobly, the Moonicorns knelt there at noon,
on the day side of Deimos, Mars’ number two moon,
and the Star Girl, with solemn and serious force,
sliced off, with a scalpel, the horn from each horse.
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Then a deafening thunderclap rattled that place,
as each horn was pulled free, and the look on the face
of the Moonicorn male, and the mare, his new mate
made the Star Girl turn pale, as she knew now their fate;
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for it dawned on them all that their gamble they’d lost,
and the lovers must now pay the terrible cost.
So they lay down before her, both stallion and mare,
and surrendered their souls, in the Star Girl’s sad stare,
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and a tear trickled down from each Moonicorn’s eye,
as the Star Girl stood silently, watching them die,
and they pressed tight together the hilts of their horns,
and awaited Forever,
the Last Moonicorns.
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--> to The Last Moonicorn, Part Five of Six
About the Creator
Christopher Graeme
May contain bodily fluids.
Currently pretending to be a troll called Adrian, boss of a speakcheesy in a kingdom where milk's illegal. Please consider leaving tips, as they'll be put towards employing an illustrator for The Last Moonicorn!
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