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Unicorn in a bag


A long, long time ago
In a land as black as pitch
An unholy alliance was formed
Between a Wizard and a Witch

No one dare try rival them
In there castle way up high
The magic that they conjured
Even Satan could not vie

Until one night out on a hill
The Wizard heard an evil shrill
The Witch’s screams were all in vein
By a Unicorn she had been slain

The Wizard swore upon this day
“All Unicorns I swear Ill slay”
He would capture them one by one
And kill them all till there are none

Knowing to hunt a beast of light
It must be done on the darkest night
For alone these beasts he could not best
So he’ll do the deed while they do rest

Using his magic he tracked the beast
The trail he followed lead to the east
There in a cave on a mountain side
The battle began and the Unicorn died

Now on his belt he carries a bag
In it a horn that is rapped in a rag
The first of many has fell to his hand
His quest just begun as he travels the land

So if you see an evil old man
Carring a box, a bag and a can
Move away quickly give him wide birth
For he is the most powerful Wizard on earth

By Mr. E. Jones



Unicorn in a Box

Now that he has his first trophy in hand
He uses the horn to survey the land
With magic blood staining its tip
A compass it is held in his grip

Telling him where the unicorns lie
And using the sight of a magical eye
Three he sees two young, and one old
To challenge them all, would be very bold

But he is ready, he knows he is blest
The secret you see, is get them at rest
So he waits until the darkness of night
Biding his time, and gathering his might

He pulls out a box from a pack on his back
In it is sand that is magic, and black
He opens the box while chanting a spell
Part of the words are “gateway to hell”

Midnight comes and he is away
Holding the box like a floral bouquet
He comes upon them all fast asleep
Closer he moves and does quietly creep

Taking the box held in his hand
Quietly chanting to the magical sand
Throwing the dust on the sleeping beasts
He calls out to hell “come gather your feasts”

Out of the box many demons do fly
The tearing of flesh as the unicorns cry
When the demons are done feasting on soul
Back into the box, into hell they do stroll

Starting a fire, and cutting a steak
From his enemy’s flesh he does partake
Picking up the now empty box
From the hair of the youngest
He fills it with locks


By Mr. E. Jones



Unicorn in a can

Now he will use his magical can
One more item, he needs for his plan
He has two pieces, one in a box, one in a bag
The last one needed, from a unicorn stag

With the horn in his hand he will find
And the hair from youngest he’ll bind
From the seed of a stag, he will exhume
And the rest, in glass, forever entomb

Closer and closer, each and every day
Using the horn, he catches up to his pray
Using the venom, from a black widow spider
A drop of his blood mixed with some cider

Using this concoction blinds the beast
Not letting it see that the mare is deceased
Thinking itself mating with a female unicorn
And after he’s dead his seed will be torn

“First things first“, the wizard does say
He walks over to where the unicorn lay
To the rear of the beast, knife in his hand
A flick of the wrist, and they fall to the sand

He needs these seeds, one given, one taken
Then into the can, and gently shaken
Using this concoction, and a magic spell
The blood of the witch, it turns to a jell

Now that he has all that he needs
He sits and he watch’s the as the unicorn bleeds
Enjoying himself with every dying breath
But it is to slow, so he stabs it to death

Packing up the bag, box and can
He journeys back to where it began
To the witches grave, on a hill up high
He drops to his knees, and begins to cry

I have done as you asked, oh love of my life
The unicorns will suffer, for taking my wife
I will capture them all and throw them to the sea
And as soon as I’m done, its with you I will be

By Mr. E. Jones




UNICORN IN A BOTTLE



A long long time ago,
In a land that’s far way,
The unicorns of this peaceful land,
Were disappearing day by day,

It seems an evil wizard,
Had come unto this land,
He swore that he would have them all,
Captured with his hand,

For 10 long years that wizard,
He work beside the sea,
A castle he had built there,
Of mud and rock and tree,

And then he started planning
Just how he’d do the deed,
With all the magic that he had,
He knew that he’d succeed,

He got himself a craftsman,
A potter by trade and name,
To make him many bottles,
To be blown in a magic flame,

Then he cast his magic spells,
And spun his magic webs,
In each bottle he’d capture one,
Then throw them to the ebbs,

Now the unicorns are gone
And the wizard moved away
The peaceful land is not
And that’s all there is to say

So if you see a bottle
That’s floating in the sea
And in it you see a unicorn
Please wont you set it free


By Mr. E Jones


NOT QUIET THE END YET!