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(/)•3•)/) ~ <3

Once there was a man,
Good looking and tall,
Grew up in a good family,
With fortune and gold.

A wife had the man,
and children, Three.
And buisness and money,
You could say;
The guy was tad lucky.

For he had it all,
What more will he need,
With family and love,
And coins and creed

But not enough had the man,
He thought to himself.
More he would need,
For his children to feast.

So on one night,
Somwhere far in the woods,
The man had an adventure,
And apparently something to prove.

To an old temple he walked,
Dark and almost broken,
But no matter he gave,
Not, at least, right then.

In the temple he wanderend,
Traps were set, he knew,
And the more he got past,
The smarter himself he approoved.

To the finale room he had reached,
"Finally!" he exclaimed,
As he looked around,
And clasped at his hands.

The room was full,
In gold and silver and bronze,
Shinig with sparkles and light,
And even some, bones?

Not that he noticed, no,
For he was busy looking through and for.
But don't get greedy, he thought and reminded,
For he knew the secret, no other man does.

The man who reached the finle room,
May take one prize, but not be fool.
If thee may take more,
Thee won't make it through.

So he looked around and around again.
There were crowns and coins and all types of jewelry,
But it wasn't the treasure nor diamonds his eyes caught,
But a simple gold lamp in the mess of it all.

He knew the tale well, The man,
A step he took forward, and another two,
Bending down,
he scooped the lamp up to his hold.

One simple moition, and the dream will come true,
He rubbed it once, twice,
And to his surprise,
It shook.

Out came blue smoke,
And filled up the room,
With a cough he dropped the lamp,
Shattering it with a boom.

He looked at it, down,
And up again,
And there stood a figure,
Pale blue skin and a funny hat.

A smile spread the man's face,
"You're the genie." He said,
The genie just smirked and held up his hand.

One finger stood out, while all the rest bend,
"One wish, you have, oh wise man."
"One?" Said the man, quite disappointed,
"Not three?" He tried to questione again.

The genie shook his head and moved his hand forward,
Twirling one finger right at his face,

"Okay." Said the man,
already knowing,
What came first to his mind,
when he just started talking.

"I wish," he said,
and the genie looked ready,
Fingers at snapping pose,
Slender and pretty.

"Not to grow old, niether to die."
The genie looked stricken, but a smirk to his eye.
"Your genie gives you your wish," he had said,
Snapping his fingures,
And proceeded to fade away into the distance.

Gone was the genie,
And so was the smoke,
The man looked down,
The lamp still on the floor.

Quite sad the man felt,
When he stepped out the temple,
No change had he sensed,
Nothing had happened.

He returned to his home,
Not speaking word of it,
While he sat with his family,
And dinner had started.

Years had have passed,
The adnventure long forgontten,
His children adults.
His wife old, but loving.

One night he looked at the mirror,
Question arising,
No wrinkles nor lines had appeared on his face,
None like his wife, at the almost old age.

More time had flew,
Her hair getting grey,
While he stood young and pretty,
She kept growing away.

"How can it be?" She had said on her bed,
The man's wife was dying, but curious no less,
He told her then everything, tears in his eyes,
Of the long gone adventure and wish he had asked.

Smile she did then,
"It's a miracle!" She exclaimed.
He laughed without humor,
"Not at the moment," He said.

He wept at her grave,
Year and year after.
But what could he do,
From down there long after.

His children he watched,
and their children too,
Grow old and pass on,
While the man only stood.

Time meant nothing,
After hundreds of years,
Not anymore,
For the man to conceal.

Lonely he was,
Years and years after,
His family had died,
And no longer happened.

He had met people, yes,
But what was it worth?
They grew and passed on and got lost.

Too many graves he had wept over,
After three hundred years,
We all know what happened,
To the people he grieved.

Love and sorrow meant nothing,
For the very old man,
Five hundred years,
And he passed them time and time again.

Regret and regret,
Was all the man felt,
He refused to love other people,
For the pain was too great.

'What have I done?'
The question persisted,
Why would you want,
To lose all that's human.

Thousand years have passed,
The man was still there,
Handsome and young,
Yet old and in despair.

'What,' He had thought,
'Would happen,
If only he jumped,
Down from a tower.

He can still die,
that much was clear,
He might not grow old,
But still he could kill.

His last thoughts were,
If all that was worth it,
No, he decided and took one more step, and down he had fallen.

He crushed hard and fast,
Life bleeding from him,
And peace he had felt,
For the first time in centuries.

As his soul flew away,
Leaving his body,
'At least,' he had thought.
'I will be with my family.'

But how wrong he was,
When he finally reached up,
A genie was there,
Pale blue skin with a funny hat.

"Haha," The genie laughed,
"Old friend." he had greeted,
"You're not going up,
But far, far down, all the way into Edom."

"I don't understand!" Shocked felt the man,
"I have been good! For years!" He exclaimed.

"Yes," said the genie, wide grin on his face.
"But one mistake you made, oh, wise man."
"You have taken a life, yours and yours only." The genie had said then,
Not leaving place for replying

"But-" the man tried,
but too late he had been,
Down he was sent,
To the awful, warm scene.

The rest of eternity,
He had spent burning,
Cursing the genie,
And coughing and gagging.

Down here was hell,
And up there was heaven,
And in between were both,
And most definitely better.

"Immortality," the man spat,
"What a cruel trick,"
"Don't ever play it,"
"It will have the win."

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