The priest sat inside his enclosed box,
Waiting for another person to come.
A man sat in next, eyes on the clocks,
And greeted the priest as if he were an old chum.The outside weather was harsh and cold,
The snow widespread and thick,
Though not as thick as the crimson which flowed -
Almost as dark as her cherry lipstick.Her dark hair surrounded her like a black halo,
Her pretty face was a beauty no more.
For Snow White had trusted the man even though,
The smiling lips had been a lie, which she had ignored.Prince Charming had whisked her away,
And she had fallen in love for they were the same.
But she didn't know that he didn't plan to stay,
So she, before she had played, had already lost the game.The priest smiled, his lips tight and thin,
And the man smiled back with charm.
The priest relaxed, relieved within.
Why had he suspected that upon him would come harm?Close to her mutilated face, lay a knife.
The crimson covered it, and the sun made the blade glow.
The lovely dagger had stolen her of her looks and life,
In the back of an alley where no one would know.The priest smiled gently and asked him to begin.
Wine was the colour that danced upon his hands,
But he spoke not of alcohol, and opened with a more heinous sin."Father, forgive me, for I have killed a young woman."
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Pandemonium
Poetrypandemonium noun ' pæn.dəˈməʊ.ni.əm/ US /ˌpæn.dəˈmoʊ.ni.əm/ 1. wild uproar or unrestrained disorder; tumult or chaos. 2. a place or scene of riotous uproar or utter chaos.