You can never tell what lies below the surface.
You can (n)ever tell the lies below the "Sir" face.
You can ever tell the lies below the "Sir" fay see.
Lies are always on the sur face, on top, right out there in the open for anyone ofay with the old way of speech.
Face - "Fay" see - the faeries who can tell all from face, who hear how the truth is always spoken, always coded for in all speech. You can't lie to a fairy, Sir.
Dressed in the ever-rosy petals of her fairy-land, she opened her wings to the sun; through them white light refracted into brilliant rainbow beams.
The fairy could access magic because she, as with all fairies, was so pure of heart.
The fairy flew upon spider-spun silken wings, for she worked with nature as one.
The fairy can only be seen by others of pure heart because pure love is a form of divine magic.
God made the fairy, angels of nature, to become the guardians of Earth should the apocalypse be averted.
The fairy grew her wings as waves of silk upon her graduation, upon the day she'd won her freedom, won the trust of mother nature and God.
Being a fairy was all about doing what was right for others. It was an existence of serving mother nature and being a pure conduit for her magic. For the fairy grants the wishes of the divine even as the divine grants hers. All healthy things in nature are about flow, about relationships that give to one another, that elevate one another to new levels of wellness.
Hark and bay,
Hither sway,
For cometh fairy calls,
In purest wonderings,
To claim the hearts of man,
To aid redemption's path.