Her prince visits the ward
where she is chained.
The watch on his wrist ticking.
Nurses talk quietly
about the tragedy that trails behind him:
“But how could fate strike such a curse on a man so kind?”
He turns a corner.
He reaches her room.
The hope of saving her fills his thoughts.
He hopes of her awakening to his voice.
After that they would merrily go to their home
and maybe even go out to dinner.
He enters her room.
Unsurprisingly, his voice doesn’t shatter her citadel.
He is no Joshua.
He is powerless against
Fate’s cold hand
that has cut the red thread
that binds them.
Time no longer drips and flows for her,
yet it callously pours and gushes for him.
He still sits beside her though,
his cruel sleeping beauty.