Your Highness! Screeched the raven, as
Walls of thorns embrace the fortress,
Snaking up her hallowed haven.
Vicious vines seep through the cracks,
Like twisted limbs made of wax.
Your Highness! Came the raven's gurgling croak.
By the window, he perched in panicked poise,
Watching his goddess, draped in velvet cloak,
Sleeping, impervious to background noise.
The raven, once a palace knight,
Had looked upon the princess bride.
Enchanted by her beauty, he tried,
Dared to wake her one night,
With a kiss so gentle, so light.
The prince, who had arrived too late,
Saw the spectacle before his eyes.
Enraged, he had the knight seized,
Dragged through the palace gates,
While, out of spite, he seethed,
Told the king his petty lies.
To pay his price, the knight was banished,
At the mercy of a sorceress, who,
Cursed and trapped him inside a raven's form
To wander and live on decaying worms.
By envious sin, eternally punished.
Still, the raven remained by the princess' side,
Even as the fortress had begun to fall.
He guarded her, even as flowers had died,
Leaves had dried, the briers threatening, tall.
Your Highness! Came the raven's hopeless caw,
As her bright eyes were the last thing he saw.
