Mon, 07/31/2017 - 19:37 -- Ccherow

Once upon a time, In a land with rolling hills of green, There lived a young princess, A beautiful maiden of fifteen.  At birth a curse was cast, That if needle joined fair hand, Aurora would undergo sleep, Eternal with the land.  One summer day a quarrel arose, "I will not be married" "You will not oppose"  She ran to her room and slammed the door, "I hate my parents. I hate this life even more" Treated as nothing without a man, That was not part of her plan.  The curse came to her mind, If only a needle she could find. Eternal sleep, how freeing, Drastically better than just being.  She searched her sewing tools, Among luscious threads and jewels, She found the glimmering savior, A needle that her mother gave her.  The princess held It grasping firmly, This was the beginning of her journey. She fiercely stuck it in, A small weld into her skin.  Sleep took over her body, She lay peacefully on the floor. Wishing to never be awakened- Until a prince came through that door.  Many years later, he walked through webs and dust, To see a beautiful princess laying untouched. He bent down and with his lips, Gave Aurora a beautiful kiss.  She suddenly awoke, Her fury invoked. "Why did you wake me? I don't need your saving"  The prince was taken aback, A feisty temper she did not lack. He turned away to think for a second, The slice of a sword left him beheaded.  Aurora sat up on her bed, A plan formed in her head. She would seek revenge on royal men, Who took rightful thrones from women.  She traveled the lands to serve her cause, Bringing equality to kingdoms with flaws. And thus was born, the noble warrior Aurora.       

This poem is about: 
Our world


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