The Chicken Queen, she loved herself so dear,  

Her crimson comb she treasured, a red clear.  

Each day she gazed into the mirror’s glow,  

As courtiers bowed, her beauty on full show.

The Chicken Queen declared to every land,  

"Without a comb, you'll face a lifetime's brand"  

All creatures rushed in panic, on the go,  

To find a comb, and wear it just for show.

The Chicken Queen announced a contest bold,  

With all the wealthy kingdom as prize untold.  

Her princess too was promised as the bride, 

To whomever could the royal test abide.

The first task, a poem about the elephant with tusks of nine,  

The second, a rooster with nine spurs divine.  

The third, a steed with nine manes of crimson hue,  

And for the fourth, the challenge yet was due.

When news arrived, the creatures felt despair,  

The tasks too hard, the clues were far from clear.  

So many questions left with no reply,  

And no one knew when this time would fly.

The Princess, though, was filled with mounting dread,  

When would one win? Would no one claim her hand?  

Rumors arose, she’d be left lone and unwed,  

No heir would rise to rule this troubled land.

Time passed away, like mist in morning’s light,  

No creature solved the mystery in sight.  

The Princess then, alone, set out to find,  

A future for herself, with heart and mind.

Of course, no one could find the fabled things,  

And none desired the crown that marriage brings.  

For every creature, burdened by decree,  

Still wore their combs, the Queen’s harsh legacy.

Then one day, wandering paths that led astray,  

The Princess found herself in places far away.  

Among the scoundrels, rogues both bold and sly,

Upon the path they called the Road of Villains high. 

The first villain the Princess did meet,
Was a lizard, addicted and weak.
Selling his tail for a couple of coins,
And three empty cups he'd throw in to join.

The Princess said, "I don’t need a tail."
He promised her spoons without fail.
He needed the cash for salt and brine,
To trade for a comb, so red and fine,
For his clever girl, bright and wise,
To help her in school, to reach for the skies.

The Princess felt her heartstrings pull,
And gave the villain some coins, though full.
The Lizard refused to take them for free,
Then dropped his tail into her hand with glee.

The Princess shrieked with shock and fear.
The Lizard laughed, "You're naive, my dear.
A new tail grows within a few hours,
It may be ugly, but it still has powers."

He then said, "Wearing a tail is in style,

Just second to the chicken comb's guile,

Which ruins lives, leaving all in strife,"

Then vanished from sight, quick as a knife...

The Princess held a tail, spoons, and bowls,

Lingering on a narrow road, unsure of her goal.

When suddenly, someone hopped along with cheer,

Approaching her and asking, "Why are you here?"

The Princess saw a little hedgehog come near,

Its quills adorned, with a crimson comb, quite dear.

But Hedgehog, though shining like a movie star,

Looked annoyed when she said, "Oh, how cute you are!"

The Hedgehog snapped, "I'm rude and mean, ugly too,

Lazy, dirty, messy, clumsy—it’s all true.

Empty-headed, reckless, and harsh in my strife,

Worthless, unable to love my own life.

I should’ve died, that’s clear to see,

Yet I’m still here, living life so meaninglessly!"

Trying to understand Hedgehog's hidden grief,

The Princess asked more and learned its story in brief.

On a March day, with frost still in the air,

Hedgehog was born into a wolf’s lair.

No soft fur, no hunger for the chase,

It couldn't howl or bite prey with grace.

Mother Wolf sighed, "Is this really my kin?

And lamented that fate had done her in.

Hedgehog suffered, believing it was at fault,

Withdrawing, trying to blend in, never to exalt.

It worked hard, excelled, and stayed out of sight,

Always patient, always trying to be a wolf right.

Giving up its childhood, just for a glance,

A moment of warmth, a chance for one dance.

A feeling of love, belonging in the end,

No longer lonely, no more needing to pretend.

"Until one day, Hedgehog met me, and then,

We’ve been happy ever since, as true friends."

A voice chimed in, soft, poetic, and bright,

As Fox emerged, with Raven by her side in the light...

Just before Raven and Fox could speak,

The mouse began, his voice not meek.

With paper and ink, he did arise,

Catching fleeting thoughts in the skies.

"I love to write my dreamy rhymes,

Twisting, turning through endless times.

Pouring out sorrows that never end,

Simple joy? A question I send.

I doubt I'm betrayed, or I betray,

I doubt a world where poems don’t stay.

I doubt shallow love and hearts of stone,

I doubt I'll ever be left alone.

Doubting long, I've turned to a daze,

No comb to wear, my spurs in a haze.

Lost in thought, my heart torn apart,

Remembering false love, strings that smart.

Then one morning, tired of the wait,

My dear hen had left—oh, cruel is my fate!

The thread of love snapped, left incomplete,

And I stood lonely, with poems at my feet.

Since that day, I've left dreams behind,

Left the dark, the light, the foggy mind.

I hate the false, the pretense, the lies,

I hate the combs, the spurs, the disguise.

I wrapped the world in all my rhymes,

Rolled life itself, and cast it aside.

Night by night, in longing I search,

For true love to last till the final perch."

Mouse gave up on "Oh," and turned to "Owe,"

Chanting daily one line in a row:

"For miles and years, who can comprehend,

True love that lasts till the very end."

And then one night, Mouse met Raven’s grin,

Laughing until one o’clock set in.

No more for combs or spurs that bind,

By two, they’d already become aligned.

And by three, thoughts of revolution in mind...

The Dove Asked the Raven, "Why So Black?"
The raven snapped back, "I’m dark—cut me some slack!"
The turkey then came with a hefty kick,
"Put on this comb, paint wings to do the trick!"

The raven leapt up and pecked with might,
Fought the righteous ones, knocking them from sight.
Then sat, puzzled, with a heavy sigh,
"Maybe they want to be near, that’s why.
Is that why they cross into our space,
Pretending friendship to find their place?
Gold blends with brass, through every age,
Maybe I should leave them to their stage.
After all, they seem rather sincere,
Fighting more won't get us anywhere.
Perhaps it’s time for a brand-new game—
A contest to find the feathers of fame."

The dove refused, no need to try,
Thinking her beauty surpassed the sky.
The turkey, eager to puff his pride,
Wanted to crow loud under the sky.

The raven, seeing their folly and fight,
Left them behind to play with the dove’s delight.

Who knows if this story is truly so,
But it seemed to echo something we know...
The mouse then pondered and asked the raven,
"Tell me, what’s the revolutionary haven?"

Hey, you chickens, hold your tongues,
Leave me be—why stir the dung?
I’ve no need for spurs or combs to wear,
When my heart burns with the sun’s own flare.
Your words—keep them, let them be yours,
I don’t need you to dig up old sores.
I’ll laugh at all your senseless chatter,
Dressed in love’s disguise, lies that flatter.

All this time, I’ve stood my ground,
Yes, I’m black, I embrace the night’s sound!
Yet you see me as guilt, painted in sin,
And want to bleach me, shine the sun within?
You even offer me a borrowed comb,
And send the Dove, with stones to throw.
Do you think I’m the fool you seek?
Leave me be! I’m me, that’s enough—unique.
Go ahead, flaunt your feathers, your show,
Boast your combs and spurs—leave me alone, though.
I may be wild, lost in my own way,
But I don't care what others have to say.

I only long for freedom to reach every kind,
To live true to themselves, no combs to bind.
Be they lizards, hedgehogs, worms, or fish,
Foxes, cats, horses—whatever they wish.
Be proudly themselves—each form they bring,
One of countless shapes, each a spirit’s beautiful wing."

Mouse the Dreamer pondered and saw Raven the Rebel so brave,

With noble ideals, in need of aid to pave.

He introduced Fox the Sage, clever and wise,

And together they formed a bond on high.

Now Fox the Sage devised a clever plan,

To help the Princess find a love’s hand.

And to grant each creature, great and small,

A life of peace—no combs at all.

Born with a heart so pure and free,

Fox the Sage sought the countryside’s peace.

Epic tales and sutras were his delight,

Wandering with ease, avoiding life’s fight.

But then the winds of change did blow,

The Queen’s call made him leave his home’s glow.

Combs and spurs brought troubles to court,

To manage the palace, his wisdom was sought.

Amidst royal pines, he stood with pride,

Yet in his heart, he felt a divide.

Every day, he faced deceit and schemes,

Longing for peace in his faraway dreams.

In courts where falsehoods laid the ground,

Fox the Sage held his virtue sound.

Ignoring power, wealth, and fame,

But dangers grew, and so did blame.

One day, disaster struck the land,

A plot was set by wicked hands.

Accusations hung heavy and cold,

The Queen, angered, stripped him of his role.

Burdened with injustice, feeling betrayed,

Fox the Sage fled to the forest’s shade.

The trees became his refuge and shield,

Where Raven the Rebel and Mouse revealed

Their sighs in the midnight’s shroud,

Scheming to free the creatures so proud.

Together they worked with wit and care,

To save all beings from despair.

The princess too, found peace at last,

As dawn’s bright light upon her path was cast.

Horse the Wild, so restless, with a flair to roam,

Born to wealth, yet wild at heart, far from home.

Shopping, feasting, both night and day,

Spending recklessly, saving nothing away.

One day, his parents passed and gone,

The fortune vanished, all wealth withdrawn.

Horse the Wild grew weary, burdened with toil,

Struggling for a living, he plowed the soil.

Once used to servants, to wealth and cheer,

Now faced with hardship, he shed a tear.

At wit's end, he schemed his way,

Joining the rogues who traded the combs of the day.

Caught in the act, he ran from the scene,

Seeking refuge at the home of Fox the Sage, unseen.

Fox the Sage guided Horse the Wild through,

Down hidden alleys to places new.

Horse the Wild, once more, found a place to stay,

In the rebel’s path, he found his way.

They needed one who could move and spin,

Who could play the role with a scarlet grin.

Horse the Wild, who loved his reckless game,

Painted his combs with nine red flames.

With daring spirit, unmatched and bold,

Swaggering wildly, fearless and cold.

He walked with pride, a sight to behold,

Who could have guessed the stories unfold.

The Silkworm once lived, in threads it thrived,
Devouring the years, endlessly alive.
But one day a decree spread far and wide:
Those without combs and spurs would be jailed inside.

So Silkworm fled to a hidden trail,
On the Path of Villains, where no hounds would wail.
On that very day, Mouse and Raven combined,
Creating a group to renew mankind.

Silkworm heard whispers and sought to prove,
To offer a life, uncertain yet smooth.
For Silkworm’s skill was spinning tales true,
Disguising any face, no matter the view.

Indeed, Silkworm wasn’t one to jest,
Plucking Hedgehog's quills, weaving them best.
Nine red spurs on claws so bright,
Turning Raven the Rebel into a holy sight.

Mouse the Dreamer, with pen held high,
Stepped forward with verses that made hearts sigh.
He wrote of elephants with tusks of nine,
Ideas so rich, they shook the divine.

The Princess, disguised as a Prince so grand,
Gathered the needed items, all on hand.
She presented them to the Queen, so bright,
Along with a love potion to charm the night...

And to obtain the magic brew,
Fox the Sage guided them to the land of Schemer,
Where Gecko the Schemer, of wizardry fame,
Had long been known for his mystic game.

Gecko lived in a strange house,
Perched on a chicken leg—macabre, no doubt!
In a misty forest, dark and thick,
Where no one dared to venture or pick.
Only those with true desire,
Came for potions or advice they’d admire.
Was Gecko a sorcerer or a sage?
None could tell, but tales spread through the age.

The Princess, the Horse, and the Raven sped,
Across towering mountains and rivers ahead.
Through many trials, their fate unshaken,
They arrived at a dock where the river awakened.

A few flowers bloomed amidst the scene,
Fog hugged the meadow, so calm and serene.
Warm rays kissed the garden's face,
While Gecko the Schemer lounged in his space.

Struggling up the chicken's eerie claw,
They reached Gecko the Schemer's house in awe.
Their pleas and stories they laid out bare,
Gecko the Schemer nodded, with a cunning glare.

He asked, "The blood and tail, where do they lay,
So I can make the potion and send you on your way?"
The lizard’s tail, heavy, they carried with care,
And three spoons to catch the blood, they’d done their share.

Gecko the Schemer chanted his spell,
Conjuring three cups of Magic Elixir well.
This potion is used only when in need,
With a sacred chant, its power guaranteed.

Before parting, Gecko sternly advised,
Revealing the Princess’s fate, disguised.
A tale of the past, with wit and charm,
A curse that once had done her harm.

With sorrow and truth, the story was told,
The Princess hurried back to her Kingdom of old...

The Princess drank the magic brew,
Spoke the spell, and Prince so grand she turned into.
Galloping straight to the royal hall,
On a "Holy Horse," proud and tall.
With "Nine-Tusked Elephant" poetry sung,
The "Nine-Spur Rooster" flying, dancing along.
Boldly, he addressed the Chicken Queen:
"Now I’ve met the tasks, shall I be king, serene?"

The Chicken Queen, with a regal display,
Shook her comb with pride, preparing to say:
“There is one final test you must meet,
Identify the Princess, with whom you’ll be complete.
You must also solve the riddle, and unveil,
Her true name and her origins, without fail.”

The Prince, with a stroke of his pen,
Drew Princess the Rose, exactly like her then.
He told the tale of times long gone,
And revealed the truth—the Queen had once borne a Cat.

This Cat, a mischievous little sprite,
With no comb, meowing day and night.
The Queen had sought help from the sage,
Gecko the Schemer, known for his mystic stage.
He cursed the Cat, with a comb upon her head,
Forcing her to forget her own name instead.

The Queen, her comb now trembling red,
Couldn’t deny the truth that was said.
With a royal decree, like thunder it rang,
Princess the Rose and Prince so grand shall now wed and reign.
No time was wasted, before anyone knew,
Prince so grand became King, his rule bright and true.

Prince so grand, with sorrow in his voice,
Took the magic brew that split him in two.
Princess the Rose, so fair and bright,
And Prince so grand, ruling with all his might.
The Chicken Queen, in shock and deep dismay,
Her heart gave way, silent as she prayed.
Before her grip could leave the throne,
Her soul departed, leaving her alone.

From that day on, peace filled the land,
No combs or spurs to force a hand.
All creatures rejoiced, wild and free,
Living true to their nature, in harmony.