Eryona Writes! Copyright Law (c) 2024 - Present

  A True Knight’s Valor They swore their lives unto the crown, To always answer their king’s call. Believing honor was obedience, No matter who might fall. But when he looked upon the dragon, He slowly sheathed his sword. For justice held a higher place, Than allegiance to a lord. He knew what this could cost him, Title, home, and knightly fame. But honor without righteousness, Was honor but in name. And so he and his brothers, Together made a stand. To guard the magic and its wielders, Found throughout the land. The crown declared them traitors, And banished every knight. But exile could not sway the men, Who knew their cause was right. They sought no throne among them, Nor came with foolish pride. They joined as friends and equals, And stood right by their side. The wounds of generations, Had finally begun to mend. As those once called an enemy, Became a trusted friend. The healers left the forests, The dragons filled the skies. The fae emerged from hidden realms, Before the knig...

No Dragons Were Slain Dragons weren’t fearsome, They were gentle and kind. Keepers of knowledge, That enlightened the mind. They could pass through the realms, Of both shadow and light. For they possessed ancient wisdom, And the gift of third sight. Kingdoms could not tame them, Though they sought the upper hand. But our dragons loved their freedom, And would not bend to our command. It wasn’t flame they feared the most, Nor the talons dragons grew. What frightened every kingdom, Was how much the dragons knew. They carried truths throughout the ages, Every secret crowns concealed. No king could buy their silence, For fear the truth would be revealed. So the kings made their decision, The people’s minds now full of lies. They made a proclamation, That every dragon dies. The kings’ determination, Filled their lands with dread. A bounty placed upon the dragons, For every severed head. They could have scorched the kingdoms, And set the lands aflame. But harming those who’d done no wrong, W...

  Before The Fairytales It has echoed throughout our history, That we fear what we don’t know. And kingdoms often answered fear, By striking the first blow. If you were deemed as magical, You were driven from the land. Cast away from the life you knew, Condemned by crown and hand. The healers sought the forests, The dragons claimed the skies. The fae retreated underground, Beyond all mortal eyes. The giants climbed the mountains, Where no king’s flag could wave. The mermaids kept to oceans’ depths, Where no one else would brave. Their names became old legends, Their truths were dressed as lore. The things we call impossible, Had simply gone before. For magic hasn’t disappeared, It’s merely learned to hide. In whispered tales and ancient songs, Where moonlit secrets bide. And history repeats itself, More often than we see. For every myth begins somewhere… Perhaps  from memory. Original Poetry Written By Eryn Dunbar Copyright ©️ 8.5.2026

  Where Moonlit Secrets Bide Don’t follow music through the woods, No matter how it sings. For not all creatures dressed in light Are harmless, gentle things. The fae were never innocent, Though stories softened truth. They traded favors steeped in charm To steal away your youth. They danced beneath the moonlit boughs With laughter sharp as knives, And stole the names from weary souls To claim their mortal lives. They offered fruit like rubied wine, With lips both pale and red, But one small bite could bind you there To realms beneath the dead. So if branches start to whisper And the woods grow deathly still, Do not eat what’s offered No matter how they thrill. For the fae love pretty things And humans love to roam… But once they steal your true name, You’ll never find your home. You should question every legend That history casts aside… For magic still walks quietly Where moonlit secrets bide. Original Poetry Written By Eryn Dunbar Copyright 5.16.2026

Women They Could Not Tame They called them wicked women Because they could not be controlled. It was men who held the power, Not the women who were bold. Women who spoke to nature, Who healed with root and flame. Whose whispers stirred the heavens When they softly spoke a name. They feared the wise and knowing, The ones who sensed too much. Who understood the language In every soul they’d touch. So they branded them as evil, Turned the gifted into cursed. Then burned them at the stake So their secrets would die first. But magic leaves an imprint, It lingers in the blood. In daughters born with knowing eyes And hearts that flood with love. And though they tried to bury them In ash, and fear, and blame. Those witches were not wicked… Just women they could not tame. Original Poetry Written By Eryn Dunbar Copyright ©️ 5.15.2026

Fragments of Truth Stories and myths passed down through the ages. Legends of knights, wizards, and mages. Tales of vampires, werewolves, and fae.  Powerful warlocks who turned night into day. We were told that it's fiction... but what if it’s fact?  And millennia ago they all swore a pact. To rewrite our history and create fairytales. Tales told at bedtime to girls in pigtails. To bury the truth beneath folklore and rhyme. So no one would question the ancient bloodline. They silenced the witches, condemned those who knew. Then painted them wicked to alter our view. But magic dies slowly, it waits and it hides. In forests, old ruins, and ocean deep tides. In women called “crazy,” in healers and seers. In stories that somehow still last through the years. So maybe the monsters were never pretend. Maybe the ancients still walk among men. And maybe those tales that we laughed at in youth, Were never just stories... b ut fragments of truth. Original Poetry Written By Eryn Dunbar ...

  A Love Worth Writing About I don’t want to be someone's short story,  in a tale they tell to all their friends. I want to  live  in every chapter,  in a book that  never  ends. I want to be the kind of woman,  that my partner can’t resist. And deep inside I know,  this type of love has to exist. I want a love that chooses me,  in both the silence and the noise. In all life’s messy moments,  and not just when there’s grace or poise. A love that will not fade away,  when our passion starts to slow. But deepens with the years we share,  and all the ways we grow. I want a hand to hold at night,  when words are hard to find. A heart that stays committed,  even when the world’s unkind. Not fairytale perfection,  or a picture-perfect view. But someone who will keep choosing me,  the way I choose them too. For love isn’t just a longing,  or a spark that we defend. It’s waking up and writing us, Again … a...

  If Dragons Were Heartache If dragons were heartache Then mine would be slayed If love were a color Then you're my favorite shade You brighten the darkness With your light that won’t fade You’re a blanket of grass And I love every blade If stars were your laughter I’d live for the night And trace every sparkle That feels like your light You silence my chaos By just being in sight You catch all my tears And make everything right You’re comfort and fire You’re protection and flame You’re the calm in the storm That I whisper by name If it were anyone else I would not feel the same You’re my greatest love And your heart I do claim You’re my favorite person And you’ve never lied And you’ve always healed me The times I have cried So if ever I wander Too far from your side Please know that I love you Forever with pride So if dragons were heartache And love was the cure Then you’d be my shelter Where I’d feel secure I'm glad that my journey Took a detour For it led me to love That is ...

  Canva AI Image His One Saving Grace A long ago tale told by every town crier. About a love story that caught night on fire. Their flames could not possibly go any higher. A passionate pair. A burning desire. People would come and gather around. In every tavern. In every town. Drinking their ale. Their fists would pound. The Gods so angry, they shook the ground. Yes, the Gods were so jealous, of this lovely pair. For their love was profound, which was truly rare. Some people cried, filled with despair. For all of them wanted what these two seemed to share. Here is the thing, this tale is still told. Even though it is more than a millennium old. About a fair maiden and a Knight that was bold. To stay loyally by her, he braved arctic cold. He brought her trinkets. He wooed her with lace. At the very beginning, she made him give chase. For even just one chance to feel her embrace. And kiss her so softly, on her charming face. He knew she was someone he would never replace. An Epic lo...

Canva AI Image The Curfew As darkness falls  The shadows creep  A witch’s cauldron  Starts to steep The Ravens sing Their nightly song  And creatures scurry  In a throng People start  Rushing home  For in the night The dangers roam They hurry up  And lock their doors  They hear the wailing  From the Moors There’s eerie hooting  From the Owls  Perils lurk And evil prowls Some too frightened To fall asleep  Wolves are hunting  And they’re the sheep  The Witches cackle  The wind does carry  Seems to make  The night more scary  The windows barred  The shutters closed  An unspoken curfew  Is imposed  And those who choose  To brave the street To prove themselves  With daring feet Probably won’t  Remain alive  For very few  Ever survive  To share their story  Or lavish tale With those they meet Over an Ale They meet a fate That’s worse than death...