Once Upon a Queer: Part IV - Galactic Gardens
Get to know new adventures that await you at Afterglow Pride: Galactic Gardens. Meet ethereal beings Queermos who have a message for all the queers of Earth!
Through the gate of day-glow hue,
The villagers soared to a world born anew.
Galactic Gardens—lush and grand,
A paradise painted by luminous hand.
Vines dripped with jewels, aglow in the night,
Leaves burned electric, pulsing with light.
Neon orchids in wild gardens grew,
Unfurling in shades no dawn ever knew.
Then from the heavens, radiant and bright,
Came beings of power, cloaked in light.
The Queermos—majestic, bold, and wise,
With galaxies swirling inside their eyes.
“Welcome, dear travelers, seekers of truth,
To a world where queerness needs no proof.
Here, we thrive in endless delight,
Unbound by shame, unburdened by fright.”
The villagers listened, entranced and aware,
As Queermos spoke of a world once unfair.
A villain had ruled—Abomination its name,
A force of control, a tyrant of shame.
Laws were imposed, cruel and severe,
Bodies policed, identities smeared.
Drag was forbidden, history erased,
Joy made illegal, love left displaced.
But Queermos fought, with art and with fire,
With dance that defied, with lips of desire.
Each painted stroke, each melody played,
Broke the chains that bigots had made.
Partnership over power, fluidity over force,
Love was the weapon, resistance the course.
No kings, no masters, no rules carved in stone,
Only chosen family—a fate of their own.
And so they had won—not with war,
But with passion, creation, a love evermore.
They taught the villagers what they had learned:
Queerness is power—unbridled, unturned.
Then one by one, Queermos bestowed
A gift to each traveler, a power bestowed.
Some could shape fire, some called the rain,
Some read the hearts of joy and pain.
But the greatest gift, the truth unfurled,
Was the power to rebuild the world.
Not just with magic, nor power alone,
But with bonds unbroken, a love fully grown.
And in their hearts, the villagers knew—
Earth still suffered, the fight wasn’t through.
A world still trapped in bigoted chains,
Crying for change, calling their names.
“Go now, my children, the time is at hand,
Transform your home, reclaim your land.
Tomorrow’s not waiting, nor written in stone,
The future is ours—we make it our own.”
The villagers rose, ablaze with intent,
Each knowing well what their journey had meant.
Through the cosmic gate, they turned their sight,
Back to Earth, to set things right.
And down they fell, like stars set free,
Crashing to Earth in a desert sea.
Through dust and flame, where dreamers conspire,
A temple of light, a city of fire.
A village of Comfort, a village of Joy,
A beacon where love no force can destroy.
No kings, no masters, no fear, no disguise,
A utopia built beneath neon skies.
And now they prepare, their battle begun,
Not with swords, nor with guns—but with sun.
With art, with voices, with hands interlaced,
For a world reborn—a world re-embraced.
For queerness is power, an unyielding tide,
Not just a story—but a world redefined.
The dust will rise. The fire creates.
And when we return, as we always do,
We will build something wilder,
Freer,
Untamed.
