The Fantabulous Chronicles

In a forest dense, at the midnight hour,
There bloomed a flower with a stinky power.
Its petals glowed in a ghostly hue,
A secret known by a chosen few.

They said if eaten, the flower could grant,
Strength of a beast, fierce and defiant.
But its curse was whispered in fearful tones:
You’d lose yourself, your heart, your bones.

Lilac, a hero, bold and fair,
With violet eyes and braided hair,
Had heard the tale from a wise old crow,
And sought the flower where shadows grow.

Through thorny trails and rivers wide,
She braved the woods with stars as her guide.
The moon hung high like a watchful eye,
As the flower’s scent began to fly.

A stench so foul, it made her choke,
Like sulfur mixed with burning oak.
But there it stood, in a silvered glade,
A bloom of power the dark had made.

Lilac hesitated, her heart beat fast,
Could she resist, or would she be cast
Into the form of a monstrous beast,
Whose hunger would never cease?

But danger loomed, a wolf pack near,
Their eyes aglow with a savage leer.
To save herself, she made a choice,
Ignoring reason, heeding no voice.

She plucked the flower, took a bite,
Her body burned with a blazing light.
Her arms grew strong, her roar shook trees,
She felt the power surge with ease.

The wolves retreated, tails tucked low,
Afraid of the beast with a fiery glow.
But Lilac wept as her hands turned claws,
Her mind now trapped by nature’s laws.

Yet deep within, her spirit fought,
For who she was, she had not forgot.
With will unbroken, she found her way,
To keep the curse at bay each day.

Now Lilac roams, a hero still,
A beast with heart, a tempered will.
Protecting those who face the night,
Guided by moon and flower’s light.