Rehabilitation of a Troll

a fairytale

a digital well being

lurker of depths

terrors the village

the swashbuckler is sent

to ban(ish) but

as st martin once cut cloth

instead curtains are parted

and sunlight floods

the blueshot eyes

a pea-sized prefrontal cortex

screams "LEGION",

but is quickly silenced

by the untexturable smile

of him who its greasy lips

once gloated NPC

...and finally, after wandering an aberration for years,

the lost son was welcomed back into the village,

where he lived happily ever after.

The End.

(this one's really stupid, I just came up with that first word play and found it too good not to do anything with. Image is ai generated.)