The Beastly Beauty and the Beautiful Beast

The beast must love Or be a forgotten memory The beauty, a dove To be known for the scullery A witch, transfixed To doom them both Or so….. That is the story we know. In honesty, it twas the dove An honest witch, with a heart of Love. Her heart grew jealous over the white witch And her lovely Prince. What a bitch! So to sour their love she cursed them One cursed to short lived wrinkles And the other, under a Beastly light All, only for one night. Come forth, the white witch Says the irritable itch. But where was his love? Only a bag of Bones to be his dove? No! No! Throw the wretch! But yes, yes. Strike midnight Nowhere was she in sight. Instead the white witch sat With her breath dead inside Her last words, curses onto her Prince who left her too cold to stir. And this is how the Beastly beauty Won the beautiful beast