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Once upon a time in a land of grey,
ruled a
misfit king who did things a different way.
With fur that shimmered like the twilight hue, & eyes holding stars that the ancients knew.
They called him Awaara Raja,
the wandering soul,
Who traded the crown for
the art of roll
No courtly affairs, no suits, no ties, Just the riverbank, wind and open skies.
In his paws lay the tools,
a ritual so old
Spinning the earth’s herbs into literal gold.
"I solemnly swear, with this spark in my hand, To bring magic and adventure back to this land."
growled Awaara with all his might,
And shattered the silence with his blazing light.
The smoke hit the sky with a signal so fine,
The universe shifted its cosmic design.
Friends & rebels,
wild & strange,
all misfits united to spark up
the change.
With each puff ,
with every pass 'round,
The walls came crumbling
to the ground.
Ordinary days became extraordinary tales as the magic spread far & wide!
The misfit king became a whispered legend, his mystical kingdom thrived.
And they lived happily ever after, dancing in abandon, morning to noon to night. 🌙
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