Fairytales

when I was little I used to dream

of being married and living

Happily ever after, a Queen

that sits on her throne with Pride

glittering in sparkling

daylight, shining blue,

pink, silver, and golden

and a husband with

eyes, skin, soul

milky Dark as night

to rule over all the land;

I grew up and

the fairytale was Shattered,

my queen nothing but

various shards of glass

Wrought with iron, melted together,

their colors blended and Burned

so much to create the perfect shade

of Black, and her husband

morphed into a witch,

strong yet fleeting like the raven,

and a beautiful fire surrounded

the pair and they smiled

 

Engulfed.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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