Have you heard of the enchanted spindle
The one befitted with a curse
One of the worst
We've ever had to know
I doubt you know really happened
For the truth
Started with a girl named Ruth
Found dead in winter's snow
I'm sure you've about Aurora
The sleeping beauty
And how a faerie
Stooped really low
But that's one half the tale
Mostly filled with lies
Bygones and goodbyes
And people who couldn't grow
You see Ruth was a mischievous witch
Daughter of the Astana Queen
A witch who reigned supreme
In her caverns down below
She often ventured to the surface
Where she was hated
And endlessly berated
For her mother's unused gifts
But one day they went to far
And Ruth never returned home
Contended to an endless roam
But you know how word drifts
So the Queen cried herself to vengeance
And created the greatest curse
The very, very worst
And the hardest to lift
Astana's Queen killed kingdoms
In a simple spell
And watched as they fell
Never contended till her death came swift
Her successor continued the reign
And as wise Kings predicted
Witches became known as wicked
And no one could mend the rift
So when Sleepy Beauty came along
To sweetly hum her song
She was just another princess dead
With parents who'd kill innocents instead
And so began the end of witch reign
And seeing all the pain
Ruth and her husband Charming smiled
YOU ARE READING
Candles of the Night: A Book of Poetry
PoetryA book of all of the random poems I have written. Read through them and you'll be smitten. Updates are random for inspiration doesn't always flow. But often enough because I'm not that slow. Yes, many are written in rhyming verse. Yet not all are...
