Snow White

Once upon a time,

A beautiful child was born

Alas, death gave his chime

Away from her, her mother was torn

The child was born with skin so fair

Her hair was as dark as ebony

Her lips, red roses would not dare

And her voice, a song of beauty

Her father was a great King

But he fell to a dark spell

And so married an evil thing

Of monstrous beauty, was that empty shell.

Jealousy strangled the woman

"The child must be stealing my brilliance",

She thought behind a luxurious fan.

And so punished her when came chance.

The child now a girl, was turned a maid

She scrubbed, mopped and swept

Till the Queen was satisfied or she failed

And was thrown to a dark corner where she wept.

Then came a Prince, Charming as ever

He sang a song his heart taught him

And saw a girl prettier than any flower

She was seated at a river's rim

The Prince sang to her that song

But she shied away, into a castle.

He cried out he meant no wrong

But the palace's doors closed with a rattle.

The Queen had seen the Prince and the maid

"See how she steals my very essence?"

She asked her mirror, a response it failed.

Then came from behind a man with hunting licence

"Mirror, mirror on the wall,

Who's the fairest one of them all?"

"You, my Queen," the man answered the call.

"But beware, best you, the maid soon shall" he continued tall.

"How could she ever, I am Queen!"

She spat with spite and ordered for her heart

Staked, cut and boxed the man agreed already keen

And he dragged away the maid in a cart.

They stopped in a clearing of a vast forest

Eager to carve, he pulled out his dagger

He aimed for her ample chest

But against her beauty, he could not help but falter

Ceasing her chance, she ran away into the darkness

Where the trees clawed, gripped and tore at her

Her feet ached and bled till she could feel nothing- painless

And collapsed, exhausted by fear of the armed sir.

She awoke to the chirp of birds and gentle sunlight

And began a search for her new home within nature.

She stumbled upon a cottage so small it was a sight

She smiled at the structure that would be part of her future

She knocked on the wooden door

But no answer came from inside

She peered inside seeing only dusty floor

"No harm in looking…" She lied

She shivered as she ventured the house

The place must have been abandoned

For there was only webs and the occasional mouse

She climbed up stairs in hope for a bed

There, she found seven little beddings

And on them, seven names were written

She laid down on all her little findings

And she fell asleep with only one candle lighten

But behind eyes closed shut

Were shadows that stalked and crept

Scurrying along the walls of this hut

Scurrying around the beds where she slept.

The little beasts pounced on her.

They were no little children.

They fashioned a cunning lure.

There and then, all of her was taken.

When they came, she went to pretend

She imagined seven mining dwarves.

But she was never truly in that land;

It was only a shrouding of layered scarves.

A day dark as any other, an old wench came.

She saw the pain of the ebony haired,

Wasted red lips on grimaces, "Such a shame,"

So the wench offered her an apple of the same red.

Expressionless and skin so pale, she took it.

However, she never took a bite.

She could feel its dark old magic lit.

It would have ended her pain, ended her fight.

She ran back into her little prison

And cooked a broth form the enchanted fruit.

She spread the thick liquid anticipating the con

And waited for the beasts to take their loot.

They slithered in the dark of the night

And began their feast with bites and licks

But soon choked on their own lust with fright.

She left, giving each last kicks

She ran back to the haunted forest,

But she now saw what was there;

Only bended trees and abandoned nests

Till she reached the castle, her fair share.

Seeing a dead rise to her home,

The old queen summoned her lover

And poisoned him with a potion from an old tome

Before calling to the Prince for cover.

He rode on his steed to her distress

And burned the witch from the forest

Ignoring her pleas into nothingness

Even as the flames licked up her chest

But the fire never truly caught

And now haunts a wronged beauty

Who would grow the reddest apples sought

And poisoned man by the many.