THE CRUELEST FAIRYTALE
By: phoenixbasilisk He does not see her Amidst the pine boughs, A flutter within her breast As she gazes upon the prince. But the thornbird does not sing. He does not see her As she flies beside him Flitting from rose to rose Silently following his shadow. But the thornbird does not sing. He does not see her Among the sweet pale blossoms Her robe of downy feathers fall Now cloaked in only a curse of love. But the thornbird does not sing. He does not see her As he is bewitched by a majestic bluejay He gives away his heart and kingdom While she sadly dons her feathers. But the thornbird does not sing. He does not see her. As wedding bells toll, golden ribbons. A death knoll, funeral shrouds. The black swan chosen over the white. But the thornbird does not sing. |
He does not see her.
When the sharp silver dagger Reflected the bluejay’s beady Eyes that covet the golden crown. But the thornbird does not sing. But now he sees her. As she impales herself On the sharpest of thorns. In the embrace of her loved one Only a moment before death. But now he hears her. Singing the sweetest melody, The envy of nightingales A song that is sung only once, Brought by love and pain. But the dagger buries itself Seeking the heart drenched In sacrificed blood and life. And drinks the life of two. The prince and her, Together, ever after in death. They hear the thornbirds sing. |