Cacophony Of The White Ravens

One glass-like slipper

One glass slipper, one grand spell

and one prince in shining armor.

That's all it takes for a miracle.

As I laid there, on the floor,

the streetlight accompanying,

I watched the dust flying and swinging,

imagined them sticking,

to the red grime matting my hair.

The first chime of the midnight bell.

My tears rolled and rolled,

tickling me as it took new roads.

I chastised them,

"Fall harder, faster dears.

Let him see what he has brought on you".

The second chime of the midnight bell.

He lifted me with a hand to my neck,

making me gasp and pry his fingers.

I felt the cool sting

of the metal ring

pressing into my older bruises.

The third chime of the midnight bell.

My head was swimming and my vision blurred

And I heard raucous honking of aloof cars.

But I heard another sound. A faint voice.

Not from the shadow of the man that stood before me.

Not him, who I once used to cherish,

and who during some long, lost days

Had loved me back.

The fourth chime of the midnight bell.

No, I heard another voice.

I heard my mother,

and saw myself under the covers,

huddled and ready for bed.

Her mellifluent voice telling me stories

of fluttering fairies and magnificent castles.

The fifth chime of the midnight bell.