Wilted Rose

Mon, 08/07/2017 - 17:38 -- magullo

Born with blood royal

And blessed with fairy wishes,

A young girl was to grow into a lovely woman

But was tainted with one’s cursed kisses.

 

No matter the spoils or words of roses

A sadness was set within,

And once she came to the ripened age

It was time for the torment to begin.

 

Through shine there was rain with clouds so heavy

And though she kept a smile,

Her despair inside grew so great

It was almost impossible to stifle.

 

So, on one fateful night when the moon was peaked

Out of the palace she ran and left,

To the evil witch’s dwelling she finally reached

With pouring sweat and all happiness bereft.

 

“Please rid me of this depression and pain!”

She pleaded at the witch’s feet,

And though usually the witch would turn all away

The girl’s earnest tears had her defeat.

 

At the crack of dawn a plan was devised

Then the girl had set for home,

And as she walked back on the path

She felt a happiness she had never known.

 

That day she laughed with joy and glee

And gave kisses and grins here and there,

Until nightfall greeted her with the rise of the moon

Where she glided up the tower’s stairs.

 

There housed a room so quaint and small

And decorated with silks and satin,

 Her hands brushed the single red rose by the bed

Then to the bed sheet that she carefully flattened.

 

Laying down with her hair going every which way

She awaited in the moonlight still,

The witch soon arrived garbed in black and grim,

Ready do one act of goodwill.

 

She pricked the girl’s finger with a needle laced

And shed a tear after her duty,  

For in front of her lay the wilted rose,

A forever sleeping beauty.

 

 

 

 

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